


A Spy's Game

by InfiniteBlackRose



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Currently Rated E but won't earn it till much later chapters, Espionage, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Love, Kylo Ren is a British Major, Minor Character Death, Pornographic Wound Cleaning, Revolutionary War, Reylo - Freeform, Slow Burn, Spies & Secret Agents, Turn TV Show Inspired, alot of fluff, rey is a spy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2019-08-02 06:34:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 119,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16299950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfiniteBlackRose/pseuds/InfiniteBlackRose
Summary: In the American Colonies, in 1778, the British have been driven from Philadelphia leaving Major Kylo Ren to find new lodgings in York. Amilyn Holdo of the American Resistance takes advantage of the situation and offers her home to provide a cover for Rey, a rebel spy on her first mission. When Rey arrives she is excited to make a difference in the revolution and help the Continental Army, but when she meets Major Ren things don't go the way she expected . . ."It wasn’t his appearance that held her in rapture. It was the depth of his eyes and the intensity that seemed to ebb off of him. He was intimidating, but more than that . . . mysterious. There was something there that Rey couldn’t put her finger on. A feeling that she knew she would lay awake dissecting until she understood. A familiarity perhaps? She would figure him out and when she did she would happily hand his secrets to the Continental Army on a silver platter."





	1. A New Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys!  
> So, this is my first fan-fiction ever so I'm sorry if it is still a little rough! Any comments, suggestions, or critiques are welcome!  
> I also currently don't have a beta reader so if some of my punctuation is off I apologize. For an English Major you would think I would have a better grip on grammar, but, alas, commas still allude me.  
> Thanks again for taking the time to check out my fic!

Outer Limits of York, 1778

The smell of gunpowder and blood seemed to catch in Rey’s nose even though she was miles from any battlefield. It haunted her everywhere she went now, like a perfume that couldn’t be washed from her skin. She slowly stepped down from her carriage, her bag weighing heavily in her hands as she took in Raddus House before her. Its red bricks and white columns rose from the yellow grass of the hill magnificently. It was to be her new home for as long as the revolution continued and for as long as she would be needed. Rey smiled to herself in excitement.  

“Rey,” a voice called out. She turned to see a tall woman lift up elegant pink skirts and stride toward her down the gravel walk. Rey quickly placed the bag at her feet, bowed her head and dropped into a small curtsy.

“Madam,” Rey murmured. The woman ignored all propriety and embraced Rey with a laugh.

“Now none of that! Amilyn will do just fine.” She stepped back to take Rey in. “I’m happy to see you after so long. You’ve grown into a beautiful young woman.” Rey blushed at her words, looked down with a whispered thanks, and redirected the conversation.

“How are you?” At Rey’s question Amilyn smirked and let out a sigh. 

“As well as a woman who has given her home to the lobsters could be.” A bitterness swirled off her words and curled around Rey’s heart. It seemed the color red followed her everywhere now too. 

“Soon we will send them back where they belong,” Rey reassured with conviction picking up her bag. Amilyn smiled and took Rey’s arm, leading her towards the manor.

“It is for a good cause,” Amilyn said. “Though I must say that I am glad I won’t have to see them living here for long.” Rey looked over in surprise, letting go of the woman’s arm as they climbed the steps, entered the main foyer and turned into a sitting room.

“You are leaving right away then? I thought you would stay a months time at least.” 

“Maz has written me. I am needed,” Amilyn whispered, an excited light dancing in her eyes. “Abigail Adams has heard of some of my ideas for the Continental Congress and has asked to speak with me. To think! A wife of a Congressional Delegate wants to hear my thoughts on the future of our country.” 

“That is truly amazing!” Rey exclaimed as they sat across from each other. “I am envious of you, Amilyn.” 

“Don’t be,” Amilyn brushed the thought away with a wave of her hand. “Your work here is more important. You could change the present and the tides of the war with it.” 

Rey sat back with a deep breath, her eyes trailing away from the hopeful face of Amilyn to the window beyond, watching a stray cloud slowly move across the sky. Her importance was both invigorating and terrifying. She had always felt ready but now that she was here, at Raddus House, she wasn’t so sure. As if sensing her thoughts Amilyn reached out and gently patted Rey’s clasped hands. 

“Leia would not have tasked you with this had she not thought you capable,” Amilyn said. “Between her and Master Luke, I’m sure you are well prepared for what lies ahead.” Rey knew she was right. Leia had faith in her, and through her General Washington, but . . .still . . .

“Are you certain you can’t stay longer?” The support of Amilyn would be comforting as she transitioned into her new role.

“No, Rey, my apologies but I can’t.” The woman glanced at the floor with a sigh. “It is not only the pain of seeing red coats in my home, but also maintaining my cover. I am a woman of words not of stealth. I doubt I could maintain discretion of my . . . discomfort for so long. It has been difficult enough pretending to be a Tory the past few years.” Rey studied Amilyn for a moment. The woman did not make eye contact and there seemed to be a hollowness to the words, as if some key information was missing. Whatever it was Amilyn seemed resistant to share. Rey let it go and decided to broach a new topic

“Do you know anything of Major Ren?” Rey asked, glancing back at Amilyn. At the question the woman sat back, her gaze snapping back to Rey’s.

“I only know he is well respected in the British Army. Didn’t Leia tell you what she knows of him?”

“She did, though it wasn’t much at all. Only that our men in Philadelphia discovered he is Head of Intelligence,” Rey said, watching Amilyn curiously. “Also that he is a cold man with a temperamental disposition. It seems I know very little of the man I will spend the rest of my time spying on. I suppose it will make this mission all the more intriguing.” 

“Yes, I suppose it shall.” Amilyn gave a small smile before rising from her chair. “Well, I should get you acquainted with my servants and the house before Major Ren arrives tomorrow. I received word he will be with us early in the morning.” Rey stood up as well and nodded as Amilyn led her deeper into the house, wondering about her sudden distance. They made it down a hall and into a separate large space with two doors on either side. 

“This is the servants’ hall, I currently only have two other women working here. Their wages have already been paid so will not have to worry yourself on that. While you are here you will run the household in my stead,” Amilyn said, knocking on the doors to the right. The women quickly entered the hall as Amilyn made introductions. “This is Rose and Abigail. They will assist you with anything needing to be done in the house. They are also aware of your position and will aid you if ever you need their help.” Rey smiled as the woman named Rose nodded excitedly.

“Yes Ma’am, we will protect your cover,” Rose said, dropping into a curtsy.  She was short with black hair tied in a bun and yet seemed larger than life. Rose was one with a sunny disposition that people couldn’t seem to help gravitating towards and Rey was no exception.   

“With the utmost discretion,” a quiet voice added. Rey looked over and nodded to Abigail who was looking at her with a look of stoic seriousness. The woman appeared to be older than Rose and had beautiful dark brown eyes. 

“I am thankful for your help and look forward to working alongside you both,” Rey said. The women nodded back before retreating down the hall and into the kitchen to prepare for the Major’s arrival. 

“Come, I will show you to your room,” Amilyn said leading her out of the servants’ hall.

“Am I not to room with them?” Rey asked shocked. 

“Major Ren is bringing a few of his own servants with him. They will take those rooms. Also, you will want to be more available.” Amilyn looked at her and an understanding passed them. “You will stay in the guest room on the main floor while Major Ren will take the rooms on the second floor.” They stopped before an open door just passed the main sitting room. Rey peered in and took in the warm browns and greens of the bed and large window with wide eyes. It was the finest room she had ever stayed in. “I will leave you to get settled for tomorrow.”

“Thank you Amilyn,” Rey said and parted with a nod. Rey quickly set to work making the space her own. She un-packed her bag, pulling her books out first. She set them on the desk by the window and tenderly stroked their covers. They were the only things she felt were truly hers along with the knowledge inside of them. Science, philosophy, and one small book of poetry. After they were lovingly organized, Rey quickly filled the wardrobe until there was nothing but a small leather case left in the bottom of her bag. She grabbed it and looked at the note peeking out from Major Dameron telling her to be cautious and to hide her tools carefully. 

She opened the case to make sure the inkwell filled with invisible ink, a bottle of powder to uncover the ink, and a small cypher book were accounted for. Rey peered around the room and then knelt to the ground to look under the bed. There in the back corner against the wall was a loose floorboard. Moving her skirts out of the way she made quick work of prying the board up and tucking the leather case into the floor before pressing the board back into place. She smiled a moment at the corner before collapsing onto the bed, ready for what tomorrow would bring. 

 

******************

 

“He is here,” a voice whispered, excitedly. Rey looked up from her mirror, still adjusting her blue petticoat, to meet Rose’s eyes. “Amilyn is asking for us.” 

“Of course, I will be right out,” Rey said, reaching to tuck a lock of brown hair back into her bun. “Thank you, Rose.” The small woman nodded and scurried off. Rey stared at herself in the mirror for a moment more before pinching her cheeks and taking a deep breath. A nervous tightening began in her stomach before she lifted her head, nodded to herself and strode towards the main hall. She heard his voice before she saw him.

“Thank you, Madam Holdo, for providing your home to the British Army. Your service won’t be forgotten.” The voice was deep and rich. Not one Rey was expecting as she turned the corner to see his back. The red of his regimentals was like a flame burning in the middle of the wood browns of the hall. 

“It is our honor to give you refuge after you lost your home in Philadelphia,” Amilyn said amiably, looking past him to meet Rey’s eyes. “Ah! My servants are here now. Let me introduce them.” Rey quickly stood beside Rose and Abigail, eyes cast at her feet as she heard the man turn to face them.

“This is Miss Abigail, she will provide you with your meals. And Miss Rose, she will care for your wash and mending.” Amilyn said.

“A pleasure.” Again that deep voice seemed to resonate down the hall.

“And this is Miss Rey Niima, she will lead the household while I’m visiting my brother and will see to any needs you may have.” As Amilyn said her name, Rey looked up at Major Ren, her breath catching at the intensity filling his dark, brown eyes. He nodded to her and his full lips lifted slightly at the corners.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Niima.” 

“The pleasure is all mine,” Rey murmured back, looking down demurely before she glanced back curiously. Amilyn was speaking to him again, a nervous glint in her eyes, but Rey barely heard a word as she took in this Major Ren. He was tall, his frame seeming to take up more space than humanly possible. And his face . . . it was an oddly attractive one. But it wasn’t his appearance that held her in rapture. It was the depth of his eyes and the intensity that seemed to ebb off of him. 

He was intimidating, but more than that . . . mysterious. There was something there that Rey couldn’t put her finger on. A feeling that she knew she would lay awake dissecting until she understood. A familiarity perhaps? Before her thoughts could go further, Major Ren turned his gaze back to Rey and she couldn’t help but give a small smile. 

She would figure him out and when she did she would happily hand his secrets to the Continental Army on a silver platter. He cocked his head, taking her in a minute longer before returning his attention to Amilyn. Rey gazed down at her shoes the nervous coiling in her stomach turning into anticipation. He would be a challenge. One that she knew she was now ready to tackle head on. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> This first chapter is rather long and a little slow (sorry about that! It is to help set up the premise and characters mainly) but it will definitely pick up after this chapter.  
> I am planning to post weekly and I'm hoping I stick to that schedule.  
> If there is any wonky formatting I will be sure to fix it for next week.  
> Until next time :)


	2. Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> So I'm sorry if this chapter is a little bit rough. I went through and edited quite a bit but its been a busy week!  
> It is also a little bit shorter than last time, but I promise next chapter will be quite a bit longer.  
> Also, thank you so much for reading and for your comments & kudos on the last chapter! It means a lot!! Thank you again!

Major Ren disappeared the rest of the day. The last Rey saw of him was when he climbed the stairs to his rooms, his young valet following behind him with luggage in hand. Besides the occasional footsteps and scrapping of a chair, the man’s presence in the house was ghost-like. Not physical seen but felt. It was a feeling that seemed to affect Rey and Amilyn in different ways. 

There was a nervous air and twitchiness to Amilyn’s actions the rest of the day as she prepared to travel the next day. To Rey it appeared that Amilyn was ready to disappear like a ghost herself and escape the man upstairs. Rey did not feel the same unease. 

All the nerves that she felt before his arrival had fled her system. Now that her target was tangible, she felt that she had purpose. A part to play in a larger story. It wasn’t quite a feeling of belonging but it was something related and it lifted her spirits even as she thought on the man upstairs with bitterness. Rey pushed the coppery tang of her bitter feelings down knowing that they were a danger. She had to be conscious of her feelings and reactions more than ever or risk exposure.

Rey lifted one of Amilyn’s dresses from her wardrobe and began to fold it while humming a light tune to herself. Amilyn was across the room packing away more of her clothing. A furrow knitted her brow. Even in her own room, Amilyn seemed uncomfortable. 

“Are you alright?” Rey asked, setting the dress on the bed.

“Hmm?” Amilyn glanced up. “Oh. Quite alright. Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Pulling out my rifle and chasing that man out of my house,” Amilyn said dryly. Rey laughed with a shake of her head, not expecting that response. Amilyn’s eyes lit up in mirth before she grabbed the dress from the bed and shoved it into her case. 

“That will come soon enough, I promise,” Rey said in a serious tone.

“That it will,” Amilyn sighed. “But before that comes dinner. I am not comfortable dining alone with him. That is why I want you to dine with us.” 

“That isn’t my place Madam. I should dine with Rose and Abigail.” Rey wanted desperately to remain simply part of the staff. Not only for her cover, but to remind herself of her own status. Leia had taught her to be a gentlewoman—it was true—but she knew she would never have the right to call herself one. She would prefer to keep her feet grounded in reality. To save herself pain.

“Nonsense, it will help us both. You will become more familiar and I need you to help balance conversation so I don’t slip.”

“Madam, I don’t th—”

“Rey.” With simply her name, Amilyn silenced her. Rey nodded in acceptance. “Good, now please check on Abigail and Rose in the kitchen. Make sure everything is in order.”

“Of course.” Rey curtseyed, left the room and shut the door quietly behind her. Taking a deep breath, Rey closed her eyes and took a moment before making her way to the stairs. After Amilyn left she would have time to blend into her place easier.

She had just made it to the end of the hall the door to her right swung open. Rey saw a flash of white before a body slammed into her. She threw her hands up to try to catch herself on the wall and prevent herself from stumbling down the stairs when an arm looped around her waist, yanking her to a stop.  

For a brief moment there was silence except for two sets of breathing. Rey slowly turned to see dark brown eyes staring down at her. Major Ren left her pressed against his side too long for comfort, his fingers digging into her waist as if she was still at risk of falling. 

“Major?” Her voice came out shaky. Whether from the near fall or the inappropriateness of her current situation, she wasn’t sure.

A flicker lit in his eyes. Major Ren hastily let her go and stepped back. As if unsure what to do with himself, he began to fiddle with his sleeves. Rey set to work brushing her skirts off and looking curiously at the man next to her. His dark hair was no longer tied back and fell in soft waves around his face. He also wasn’t wearing his red coat, his white shirt slightly rumpled and the sleeves rolled up his forearms, as if he had just been writing. Rey paused. He was incredibly handso—

Rey cut off the thought and quickly tucked some loose hair behind her ear.

“Is something on fire, Major Ren?” 

“What?” His eyes snapped up to hers. “Oh . . .” The Major’s gaze fell back to the floor, looking around at the floorboards as if an excuse would materialize before him. “I . . . well . . .” Rey smiled at his stumbling.

“I suppose it would have to be something perilous for you to fly from your room like that,” Rey continued, enjoying his discomfort. “And to risk a lady’s life in such a way.” 

Major Ren glanced up at her. A flush began to rise up his neck until a dusty-pink blush rested across his cheeks. His full lips opened once, twice, three times until . . .

“I apologize, Miss Niima.” A cough. A nod towards her. Then, like that, Major Ren had rushed back into his room and shut the door with a resounding click. 

Rey snorted. Raising her fingers to her lips, as if to catch any more laughter, she moved on with a shake of her head. The man that had collided into her seemed so wholly different from the stoic man she had met hours ago. 

She didn’t know what to do with this new information, but it did leave her gratified in some way. Rey had full control of him in that situation, even if it was a small one. That power left her relieved. She might not have full control over her station, the scope of her situation or the war itself. . . but she now knew she could get under the skin of some of the British.

 

**********

 

 “Truly? He did that?” Rose’s voice tangled with the scents of warm broth and pork as they escaped out the kitchen. Rey pressed the door closed gently, entrapping the smell and conversation in. The noise made both Rose and the young man next to her jump. With a smile, Rey moved towards them with a shake of her head.

“If you are gossiping you should be more careful.”

“I doubt the target of our gossip would even think to step foot in here, Miss,” said Major Ren’s valet with a smirk. 

“Ah, you are speaking of the Major then . . . Sir?”

“Name’s Finn, Miss.”  

“It a pleasure to meet you,” Rey said, taking in the valet. Finn was handsome with warm brown eyes that seemed to be constantly filled with laughter and good nature. From how Rose continued to stare at him, a look of awe in her eyes, Rey knew she wasn’t the only that noticed. “So, tell me Finn, what has the Major done exactly?”  

“He destroyed an entire room in Philadelphia, Miss!” Rose exclaimed, cutting Finn off. “The furniture, the walls, everything! Can you imagine?”

“Truly?” Rey looked to Finn in astonishment. “I had heard rumors of the Major’s temperament before he had arrived here, but . . .” She trailed off. Finn cleared his throat and leaned forward with a look that said the story was a curious one.

“He heard news from one of them generals that his . . . advice had been ignored,” Finn glanced away at the mention of advice. Rey smirked. Ah so his intelligence had been disregarded then. “He flew into a rage I’ve never seen. And he is a man that’s often angry. He broke the table first. Practically snapped it in half! And then he started throwin’ chairs into the walls. T’was absolute chaos. The servants spent days trying to fix the damage.” 

“That is . . . discomforting to say the least,” Rey murmured. The man described to her in that situation was so different from the calm stoic soldier and the bumbling, blushing young man. Who exactly was this Major Ren? “I didn’t realize he was so volatile. Is he also this way towards others?”

“Don’t worry about that, Miss,” Finn said. “He can be harsh with men around him, but he has always behaved gentlemanly towards women.”

“Yes, that is a comfort, I suppose,” Rey said. “I will have to inquire further about the Major when we have time.” 

“Miss?” Finn looked at her curiously.

“To learn behaviors and how to prevent any future occurrence. While under my care, Madam Holdo’s home and staff will be safe.” And she would also learn more about this mysterious man. If he was truly so violent, Rey would have to tread carefully around him while gaining intelligence. She did not want that wrath to change from chairs to herself.

“Of course, Miss,” Finn nodded. The door swung open startling all three of them. Abigail quickly bustled in and took up a tray of pork.

“Madam Holdo and the Major have just sat down for dinner. You have been asked for, Miss Rey.” And with that Abigail disappeared out of the kitchen once more. Rey quickly picked up the remaining tray of broth and drink.

“I will take care of the rest, you and Finn enjoy a night off,” Rey whispered to Rose as she left the kitchen. Even without looking, Rey knew Rose was blushing. 

When she entered the dining room, Abigail had already set the table and placed her tray in the center. The quiet woman bustled past Rey with a knowing look and then disappeared into the hall. Amilyn was already seated at the head of the long table speaking in quiet tones with Major Ren who had donned his red coat once more. Rey took him in, wondering who she would be speaking to during dinner. Silently, she placed the remaining food on the table before circling to the empty seat beside Amilyn.

“Ah, here is Miss Niima,” Amilyn said, her voice carrying a hint of exhaustion to it. “She will be dining with us tonight, Major Ren. I hope that is acceptable.” Rey waited behind her chair, the one right across from the Major, as he raised an eyebrow in surprise before erasing all expression. When he looked up at Rey there was a chill in his eyes that made her shiver. The young man that had run into her in the hall was all but scrubbed away, leaving a disinterested red coat in his place.

“Quite.” And with that he looked down to his plate of food in dismissal. Rey took a seat and glanced once more at the man before gathering food to her plate. Amilyn looked between the two of them in interest before broaching her plans of travel with the Major. Rey sighed into her glass of brandy. The dinner was to be a long one then. She only hoped she didn’t slip up.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dinner shall take place next chapter!  
> Sorry if this felt a bit like filler, but I promise that we will have a lot of interaction between Major Ren and Rey soon!  
> Thanks for reading!  
> Until next time :)


	3. A Dinner to Forget

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> I hope you like this chapter!  
> Thank you so much for all your kudos!!!  
> Without further ado, let the dinner commence!

Silence wound around their glasses and nestled into the wood of the table. After conversation about Amilyn leaving in the morning died away, it seemed they had nothing left to discuss with one another. The only noises heard were the clinking of silverware and the crackling of the candles lighting up the uncomfortable swirl in the air. Rey peered up at Amilyn hoping for some reprieve to find none. It appeared the older woman was content to turn all her attention to the food before her. And the Major? Well he was not a man of many words in general. At least that was what Rey had observed. She sighed, taking a gulp of brandy before forcing herself to speak.

“You are a colonist Major,” Rey stated. When the man looked up at her silently, she continued. “I could tell from how you speak. I wonder at your journey into the British Royal Army.” 

Major Ren took a swig of his brandy, set the cup down, and leaned back into his chair lazily. He smirked at her, his eyes dancing in the candlelight. He looked at ease but it also seemed forced. As if it was all an act. Rey wondered why.

“Yes, I was born here in the colonies, but I’ve always been a loyalist. One that has chased after every opportunity to fight for my king and country,” Major Ren said. “As to my journey, I have my family to thank for it as they introduced me to General Snoke. He is a great friend and teacher. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.” A bitterness seemed to catch on the edges of his words before he washed it away with another gulp of brandy. It was the most he had said to her so far.

Rey leaned back in her seat, folding her hands in her lap, in an attempt to mirror the Major’s comfortable stance. She took a moment to observe Amilyn staring at him with something akin to rage filling her eyes. Just as the Major was about to look over at Madam Holdo Rey spoke.

“I’ve heard a great many things about the General. His strategy and ruthlessness are well known. I’m sure his teachings have helped progress your career.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “It is men like you and General Snoke who will lead us to victory over the rebels.” Rey choked out those last words with a quiet reminder to herself that they were necessary to stay in good graces. Ren glanced back to her and cocked his head, reading her. Rey knew he had heard something in her voice but it was only enough to cause curiosity not suspicion. At least . . . she hoped. 

Suddenly, he leaned forward, the candlelight transforming his brown eyes into a golden amber. His lips twisted into an almost smile as he studied her. Her hope faltered. However, Rey wasn’t one to back down from any sort of challenge, even if there was something disconcerting about his gaze. It was as if he was looking into her very being. It was something she couldn’t have happen and yet, after a brief second of considering losing this unspoken battle, Rey leaned in and stared back at Major Ren. 

She willingly threw caution to the wind. No longer did she think of anonymity or her mission. She wanted only to stare at this man, try to puzzle him out, and win whatever this was. Rey lifted her chin and set her teeth. It was not quite a glare but a look that she hoped conveyed some semblance of resolve. The Major raised his eyebrows before letting his smile grow. Distantly, Rey heard Amilyn cough, but it wasn’t she who broke the staring match.

“You are British, Miss Niima,” Major Ren said, his voice reverberating through the silent dining room. “Tell me of  _ your _ journey to the colonies.” With that he looked away and took a bite of his pork. Rey drew in air through her nose. This was not the trajectory she had expected. 

“You are correct, Sir,” she murmured. “As to my journey, it is of little consequence. There is no need to speak of it.” Rey returned to eating, believing that her words would end the conversation. She was wrong.

“I can’t help but think otherwise,” Major Ren said, motioning his hand towards her. “Go on. I would like to hear such an intriguing story.”  

“Truly, Sir,” she reiterated, her tone swirling into something chilly. “I came here as a child and Madam Holdo took me into her service. There is nothing else to the story you would find entertainment in.” The Major opened his mouth to say something else but Amilyn cut in.

“Major, I do believe you are making Miss Niima uncomfortable,” Madam Holdo said with a gentle smile. “That isn’t something you want, is it?” Major Ren swiveled to look at her, as if he had forgotten Amilyn was there entirely. The dark confidence that had taken root dimmed in his eyes as surprise overtook him.

“That was not my intention,” he said, quickly. “My apologies, Miss Niima.” Rey mumbled a reply. Awkwardness befell the trio. Major Ren’s eyes flickered to Rey, then Amilyn, then the table and Rey thought she once again saw the man that had run into her in the hallway. Luckily, the moment didn’t last long even though Rey’s annoyance did.

“I wanted to say again how grateful I am that you have let me stay here, Madam,” Major Ren said, redirecting the situation. “The accommodations you have made are perfect.” 

“It is my pleasure, Major,” Amilyn replied. “I am gratified everything is to your liking.”

“I’m certain my presence is also of great benefit and relief to you and your staff.” At his words, Rey couldn’t hold her tongue.

“How so?” she asked. The Major hesitated as if realizing he had somehow made another misstep, but couldn’t see what exactly it was.

“Well, for protection . . . from the rebels, of course. With your home on the edge of the city and so close to the woods, I am sure you’ve been worried as loyalists. Especially as women all alone,” Ren said with a shake of his head. “Not to worry anymore. On my honor, I will protect the staff and this home.”  

“Even as women we’ve done well on our own,” Rey muttered. To think they would need protection from their own people. . .and from a British invader no less. It was ridiculous.

“Rey,” Amilyn whispered low enough for only Rey to hear. A warning. But Rey’s annoyance had built and the fire was raging. The arrogance of the man to assume his worth in their lives! And on top of prying at her past so rudely.

“I’m sure you have,” Major Ren said slowly. “Though my status and my knowledge of combat and weapons are helpful additions.”

“I will have you know I’m adept at shooting a gun,” Rey said with a snap in her tone.

“Rey.” This time Amilyn’s voice cracked like a whip. More than a warning this time. The embarrassment of admonishment doused her fire, leaving her aghast at her impropriety. Glancing down at her hands in frustration at herself, a blush bloomed on Rey’s cheeks. She had spoken without thinking. Reckless. Stupid. Leia would be disappointed. Was it the callousness of him implying her past was intriguing? Was it simply his status as a British soldier? Whatever had caused her to spiral, it was inexcusable. If she was to be even half a decent spy, Rey couldn’t let emotion control her like that ever again.

“Well,” Amilyn said, rising from the table. “I do believe I am finished dining. Miss Niima please help Abigail and Rose clean up.” 

“Of course, Madam,” Rey said, standing quickly from her chair and curtseying. 

“Major Ren, if you will follow me, I will escort you to the sitting room. I have some fine cigars you may enjoy.” 

“Thank you, Madam Holdo.” Major Ren rose from his seat and followed her, glancing back at Rey once more with an unreadable look, before disappearing across the main hall to the sitting room. 

Rey closed her eyes. She had overreacted. Now she had to face the waves of embarrassment that seemed to come crashing towards her. She knew the best way to outrun them though. Without further hesitation, Rey threw herself into cleaning the dining room. She quickly cleared the table, stacking the dining-ware into manageable piles as Abigail came in to help. The other woman didn’t say anything as she gave Rey an empathetic look and grabbed one of the dish piles. 

In silence, they both moved into the hall and made their way to the kitchen. As they passed the sitting room, Rey hesitated. Abigail looked back at her curiously before leaving her behind. Rey had heard her name and there was no chance she would walk away if Amilyn, of all people, was speaking to the Major about  _ her _ .

“I apologize for the impropriety, Major, it won’t happen again,” Amilyn said, a sigh tangling in her words. 

“It is of no concern, Madam, the matter was small and I’ve already forgotten it.”

“I do have a favor to ask of you . . .”

“Please, continue.”

“It is about Miss Niima,” Amilyn said, hesitatingly. “I would ask you to tread lightly around conversation regarding her past. She . . . well, her childhood was a dark and unfortunate one. It is something I know she has tried for many years to leave behind her and forget.”

“On my honor, I won’t breach the topic again.” The Major sounded resolute and confident. 

Rey’s grip on the dishes tightened until her knuckles were white. How weak and foolish she sounded. To be spoken about in this manner! As if she was a frayed article of clothing one must avoid fraying more. Rey shook her head. No, Amilyn simply cared about her. And while caring, she was also protecting Rey’s cover. The Major couldn’t inquire deeper into her past. That would be a disaster. Rey raised her head. Let her sound like a broken toy to this man, it would only add to the idea that she wasn’t a threat. 

“Was there something else, Madam?” The Major’s voice drew Rey’s attention back.   
“Yes . . . I also wished to ask you to treat her as you would a gentlewoman.” Rey drew in a sharp breath at Amilyn’s words. 

“But . . . she is a servant, Madam?” The Major sounded as confused as Rey felt. This was not want she wanted in the least. 

“I know, I mean in that you will not . . . cross certain boundaries with her.” Amilyn sounded incredibly nervous now. And if she was insinuating what Rey thought she was then the nerves were warranted. Rey felt a blush bloom on her cheeks for the second time that night. How could Amilyn think such a thing could happen? It was ludicrous. 

“Madam, you discredit me and my honor by . . . by implying such a thing!” Major Ren stammered out. Rey wondered if his face was as red as hers.

“My apologies, Sir! I meant no offense.” Amilyn was silent a moment. “It is only that she is like a daughter to me. I could never have children of my own, you see, and  . . . then I took in Rey. Call it simply a mother’s worry.” 

Rey stared intently down at a speck of food on the top plate, tears threatening to come streaming down her face. She had always wondered at the wavering line between familiarity and servitude she had with Amilyn. They had known each other for years and respected one another, but Rey had never known that Amilyn had felt as deeply about her as Leia sometimes expressed. It left Rey feeling warmer than if she was sitting by a roaring fire.

“I swear, I will treat her with the utmost respect,” the Major said. Rey heard mumbling thank you’s and goodnights and then the clicking of Amilyn’s shoes. With haste, Rey turned and continued walking to the kitchen in an attempt to not be caught eavesdropping. A loud sigh stopped her escape. Rey slowly turned around to find Amilyn a little ways down the hall shaking her head and smiling. With a small smile in return, Rey curtseyed and watched as Madam Holdo disappeared up the stairs.  

When Rey entered the kitchen, Rose, Abigail and Finn were all silent and avoided making conversation with her. Rey was relieved because it seemed the dinner and night had drained all her energy. Plus she had too much to think about. 

While they all worked together to clean up the kitchen and dining room in a silent waltz, Rey pondered why Amilyn had asked the Major such an awkward request. Surely there was nothing in his behavior that showed . . . that sort of interest in her. No. The more she thought about his looks and his words, the more and more ridiculous it seemed. Perhaps she was a curiosity to him? Anything more than that was a mistaken assumption made on Amilyn’s part. Rey sighed.

“I am turning in. Goodnight,” Rey said. Rose, Abigail and Finn all murmured their goodnights in return as Rey shuffled out of the kitchen to her bedroom. Before she could make it to her room though, a tall figure nearly stumbled into her. Again. 

Rey stopped as the Major quickly stepped back into the entrance of the sitting room and left her room to get by him in the hall. He made no attempt at an apology and instead took a moment to look at her. Rey couldn’t help but stare back, the fire in the room beyond him casting moving light and shadows across his face. Even in the dark his brown eyes seemed to glimmer like candlelight. Rey cleared her throat at the awkward silence, curtseyed, and began to make her way to her room once more.

“Miss Niima?” Major Ren’s voice echoed down the hall, stopping Rey in her tracks. She turned and waited for him to continue. The Major cleared his throat.

“We should go shooting one day. I am curious to see your skills in action.”  

Rey hesitated at the request. What an odd thing to want to do with a woman and a servant. It was also a skill set she did not want to show to him of all people.

“Perhaps,” Rey said, before leaving Major Ren in the shadows of the sitting room.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!   
> If you guys have any critiques or suggestions please let me know in the comments!   
> Until next time :)


	4. Kylo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys!  
> Thank for the comments, kudos, and bookmarks!  
> So this chapter is a little bit short and is from Kylo's POV. The story will mainly be from Rey's POV but I do want to share his side of things here and there.  
> I am not sure how I feel about this chapter. It didn't quite turn out the way I hoped it would but I think that was partly due to my busy week. I'm hoping to have a longer and more fleshed out chapter ready for you guys next week.  
> Thanks for all the support!

Kylo

The morning light glanced off the windowpane and arced across the lawn outside, turning the trees around the home an autumn gold. It was beautiful enough to draw. But it didn’t quite compare to the woman lifting a trunk into the carriage down below. At least that was what Kylo Ren was starting to think.

Leaning against the cool glass of the window, Kylo watched with arms folded as Miss Niima held out her hands to take another trunk from Miss Tico. Right as the luggage was about to be in her grasp, Rose let go too soon and the trunk of clothes hit the ground, sending up splashes of mud onto both of them. Shooing away the shorter woman’s worried gestures, Miss Niima scooped up the trunk and lifted it into the carriage with a laugh, the sun catching in her hair, turning it auburn. With a victorious smile, she wiped the mud from her dress and flicked specks of it at Miss Tico.  

Kylo felt a small grin of his own grow as the two women chased each other, their laughter carrying on a breeze up to his window. It was as if there was no war raging beyond this home. It almost made him forget the anger he had for being driven from Philadelphia and the frustration that not even General Snoke had taken his new position as Head of Intelligence seriously. Yesterday had left Kylo feeling as if he had been transported to a new world. A different time. And it wasn’t just the home or the new city. It was her. 

As if sensing a gaze upon her, Rey Niima glanced up. Kylo pulled back into the shadows of the curtains. Her eyes studied his window for a long moment before she resumed her teasing of Rose. Kylo let go of his held breath and shook his head. He felt crazy. He didn’t know who Rey Niima was. Not really. And yet, as soon as he had made eye contact with her, he had felt a pull. A need to find out who she was.

Those hazel eyes had held him in rapture since he had arrived. She looked at him as if she knew him and didn’t know him all at once. And there was something else there too. A mystery. A stubbornness. A passion he hadn’t seen in any other woman. Kylo Ren wanted to discover it all. But that curiosity had already made a fool of him. 

Kylo ran his hand down his face as the embarrassment came rushing back. After he had seen her, he had wanted to speak with her. Even for a minute. About anything. He wanted to see if she was just as curious about him as he was about her. 

That first day he spent locked away in his room trying to think of any excuse to make conversation with her when he heard Madam Holdo and Miss Niima pass by his door discussing what should be packed. He knew then there would be a great likelihood that she would finish packing Madam Holdo’s things and pass by his door unaccompanied. Kylo decided to take advantage of the opportunity. 

To pass the time, he had pulled out his sketchbook and began drawing . . . anything. The chair. The fireplace. Time seemed to slow and he felt as if she would never leave until he had heard the door down the hall open and shut. Kylo had jumped from the chair, set to straightening his shirt sleeves, and had made it to the door, his hand hovering over the doorknob when he’d hesitated. The ridiculousness and ungentlemanly nature of what he was about to do hit him. To corner a woman alone just to speak with her? 

That was when he had heard the creak of the floorboards as she made to pass his room. Without much thought, Kylo Ren had dove out the door to see her . . . and nearly sent her falling down the stairs instead. The humiliation! And her teasing. He had no good answer for why he had so hastily left his room. And then . . . dear lord. Then dinner. When he finally had a chance to show he wasn’t a bumbling idiot but an eloquent man and soldier. When he finally had a chance to speak with her. Well, he had ruined that chance too hadn’t he? Then to top it all off Madam Holdo had insinuated that he may have . . . an untoward interest in her. Kylo prayed Miss Niima didn’t mistake his curiosity the way Amilyn did. 

  Kylo returned his gaze to the window and watched as Miss Niima tried to rid the evidence of the mud battle from her dress as Madam Holdo came out to greet her and Miss Tico. A warmth lit her eyes as she walked towards the older woman. Kylo sighed and turned away from the window, grabbing his coat and checking the small mirror to make sure he looked presentable. It was time for farewells. And, hopefully, it was also a chance to start over with Miss Niima.

Quickly making his way outside, Kylo Ren nodded toward his valet, Finn, and joined the women who were already saying their goodbyes. He stood beside Rose Tico and Abigail as he watched Rey embrace Madam Holdo. Amilyn leaned into whisper her goodbyes and then moved past the line of people giving her farewells. When she reached Kylo, she had a look of weariness in her eyes, as if she hadn’t slept the night before.

“Thank you, once again, Madam Holdo. I wish you a safe journey,” Kylo said, bowing his head.

“Thank you, Major,” Amilyn replied. “Please watch over my home and staff while I’m away.” With that the woman swept away, into the carriage. As it rocked down the drive, Madam Holdo waved to everyone until the carriage turned down the lane and disappeared from sight. After that the staff slowly disappeared themselves, leaving Miss Niima and Kylo to stare at the empty dirt path ahead of them. Kylo glanced sidelong at Rey to find her melancholy look melt into one of resolve.      

“You are staring, Major,” Rey said, stepping away from him and making her way back to the house.

“My apologies,” he said, trying to not sound as if he’d been caught. Kylo moved to follow her. 

“Is there something you want to ask me?” Rey questioned, not bothering to look over at him. Kylo was silent a moment, contemplating his response. Before he could think it through, he asked what he was truly curious about since he had met her.

“I just wonder why you look at me the way you do.”

“And how do I look at you, Sir?” Rey asked, confusion clouding her voice.

“As if you already know me.” After he said the words there was a long silence.

“Maybe I already do.”

“Oh?” Kylo Ren said, surprised. 

“I’ve heard a lot about you Major Ren,” Rey said, stopping to face him. “How you are prone to moods and you let your anger rule your judgement. Even if it has consequences on the house and staff around you. Am I incorrect in this knowledge?” Kylo froze. This was not the answer he was expecting. He felt a blush rise to his face. He could only imagine what she had heard.

“That information isn’t entirely incorrect, but—”

“I see. Then I must request that you keep your anger in check, Sir,” Rey said. It wasn’t said in any anger or in coldness. She said it with a simple matter of fact tone. And yet . . . it seemed to make it all the worse to Kylo.  

“Excuse me?” Kylo couldn’t believe the direction of this conversation and could already feel his frustration and embarrassment begin to boil inside. 

“Now that Madam Holdo is gone I am head of the staff of this home. I wish to have everything run smoothly, my staff to be safe and for my Madam’s home to remain intact. So you are right, Major, I do know you and I am wary of such unsavory behavior.” Rey stared at him then, a look of surprise rising into her eyes as if she couldn’t believe she had just said them aloud. Kylo couldn’t either and as each condescending word pierced his fog of embarrassment, he felt rage begin to leak out.

“A servant would dare to speak to me in a such a way?” He gritted out, his words coming sounding like the hiss of a steaming teapot. “I may have my fits of temper, Miss Niima, but I will not have someone of such a low station speak to me with disrespect!” Kylo took a deep breath and watched his words transform Rey Niima’s face. It was as if she had been struck. Her hazel eyes widened and a look of shame welled up in their depths. She looked away from him then and down to her mud splattered skirts as if she could disappear from sight. After a moment of contemplation, Miss Niima nodded.

“You are right, Sir,” she whispered. “I am speaking out of turn. This familiarity I’ve grown accustomed to with Madam Holdo will not continue with you. I apologize for any offense I may have caused. I only wished to run this house as efficiently as possible and have made an error in my judgement in my attempt to do so. I will correct my behavior immediately.” She curtseyed to him. “If I may be excused, Sir?”

Kylo stiffened at her words, his anger already fizzling away. Damn his embarrassment! He thought of all she had heard of his behavior and of Philadelphia and shuddered. For her to address it so directly and for her to be aware of his fits of rage and still broach such a topic with him was incredible. He stared at her, her hazel eyes still staring shamefully at the ground. From stubborn directness to penitence. Kylo felt as if he had whiplash.

“It is forgotten,” Kylo forced himself to say. “You are excused.” With one final curtsey, Rey continued on to the house, leaving a confused Kylo behind. So that was the look in her eyes all along? A wariness? A fear of him? Maybe even one of distaste? Disappointment quickly replaced any residual rage left behind in Kylo. None of this had been what he expected or wanted. 

He turned to watch Miss Niima stride up the stairs with a bitterness now coating his mouth. No . . . this had not gone the way he had expected at all. But Kylo supposed that was his curse. Especially, it seemed, with this Rey Niima. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a method to Rey's madness . . . . at least she hopes so!  
> Thanks for reading!  
> Until next time :)


	5. A Day to Clean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> Sorry for the delay on this chapter. I just felt like nothing I was writing was quite right, but I finally settled on this version of the chapter.   
> It was meant to be a lot longer but I felt like cutting it in half made more sense.   
> The next chapter is all plotted out so I should have that up soon!  
> Thank you so much for the support and for reading!

Rey wiped her hand across her forehead, pushing loose threads of hair out of her face, as she finished cleaning the kitchen with Rose. The whole house was now glimmering new as the weather began to shift into a cooler autumn. Dust that had swirled in to escape the winter was now sent back out on the winds. Both her and Rose worked in silence, listening to Abigail sing to herself from the hall outside. 

Rose swept more dirt into a pan and Rey moved to organize a shelf of jars as a flash of a white shirt and black wavy hair glanced by the kitchen. Before either woman could react, the Major was gone, as if he had never hesitated in the doorway. For a moment the women remained frozen, before Rose giggled to herself.

“I see he is still avoiding being near you,” Rose whispered, leaning the broom against the wall. Rey half laughed and shook her head.

“Yes, it seems he is.” Rey returned to organizing the shelf. 

“I wonder how much longer that can go on? It has already been nearly a month.”

“The man seems to be the stubborn sort,” Rey mumbled, giving up making the shelf look perfect in favor of leaning against the counter and stretching. Rose looked at Rey and snorted. “What?”

“He isn’t the only stubborn one,” Rose said pointedly. 

“I’m not that stubborn,” Rey scoffed, putting her hands on her hips. Rose just stared at her with raised eyebrows. Rey let out a small sigh. “Fine . . . I can be.” 

“You could smooth over the situation you know. Make it easier for yourself.” 

“This is how I wanted things, Rose,” Rey said, shocked at the advice. “I did what I did on purpose. This is making it easier for me.”

“Are you sure about that? It seems it would make things more difficult . . .” Rose trailed off, waiting for a response. 

“No. This has given me anonymity back. He and I have been reminded of my place and I will eventually fade back into the background as a servant and my . . . mission will be better accomplished,” Rey whispered. “Amilyn meant well but him treating me differently won’t help.”

“Are you so sure you will fade into anonymity?” Rose asked. “To me you haven’t been returned to a specific place. His avoidance tells me no matter what you do the Major will always be aware of you in this house. Whatever his reasons may be for that awareness, wouldn’t it be best to take advantage of it?”  

Rey was silent a moment. She knew what Rose said had truth to it . . . but she wasn’t about to accept any familiarity with the Major. But Rose was right about one thing. Rey was stubborn. She would do things her way because she had accomplished too much when she had last spoken to the Major.  

She had gauged what his anger was like and what set him off. Rey had now determined that he was most sensitive about his own pride. That was something she and the staff could avoid. But most importantly, she had reminded both of them of their places in Raddus House. 

Anonymity was her best option. It came without the pain of feeling torn between stations. Kylo Ren’s words, while hurtful, were what she had wanted. They reminded him of who she was. But most importantly, they reminded  _ her _ of who she really was. No more pretending to be a daughter of a gentlewoman. She was Rey Niima. A servant. Low-born. A nobody. And because of that, a perfect spy. No more pretending to be somebody to anyone but herself and the rebellion. Yes. That was best.

“Thank you for your advice, Rose, but this is my decision,” Rey said. 

“Of course, I’m sorry to push, Miss Niima,” Rose said with a bow of her head.

“No, please, don’t call me that,” Rey said, turning to grab Rose’s hands. “I’m not a Miss to you, I am Rey. We are not separated by station, Rose.”

“But . . . you are a daughter to Madam Organa, aren’t you? That makes you a Miss,” Rose whispered playfully, not catching the urgency in Rey’s tone. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about her. I hope one day I will get to meet her. What is she like?” 

“I’m not really her daughter, Rose,” Rey said. “I’m not anyone’s daughter.” 

“But . . .”

“I think I should start cleaning the rooms upstairs now, I will tell you about Madam Organa another time,” Rey said, turning to rush out of the room, not wanting to continue with the conversation. It wasn’t till she was upstairs that Rey allowed herself to take a deep breath. She felt some regret for speaking to Rose the way she had. Rey would make it up to her later. Brushing her bodice off, Rey moved to Amilyn’s room to begin cleaning, to begin forgetting the conversation entirely, and to burn off some of her anxiety about what was to come next.

Picking today to deep clean the house wasn’t a coincidence, Rey had planned the entire day out. After nearly a month of observing Major Ren, she’d noticed he had finally settled into a daily routine: breakfast in his room, a morning walk around the house, hours locked away in his room doing whatever work he had, then a late afternoon horse ride with Finn, a drink in town, and then he would forgo dinner and stay in his room the rest of the night. 

It had taken time for Rey to average the time he took for each chore, but eventually she realized that his rides took him out of the house longest at around half an hour to an hour. After that it had been easy to spread it through her staff that this would be a week for cleaning, freeing Rey to enter his room for longer than what was normally allowed. 

Rey glanced at the small clock on top of the fireplace mantel. She didn’t have long to wait before the Major and Finn would be out of the house. Now it was just about biding her time till then. Setting about cleaning Amilyn’s room, Rey remained conscious of every sound from the hall until finally she heard his deep voice.

“Finn, you remembered to grab my gloves?” 

“Yes, Sir, I have them here,” Finn responded. 

“Perfect, let’s set off then,” Major Ren said. “I’m ready for some fresh air.” Two sets of footfalls echoed down the stairs growing fainter and fainter until Rey heard the light snick of the front door opening and closing. Waiting at least five whole breaths, Rey snatched up her broom and pan and made her way to the Major’s room. If anyone did come back she would at least have a perfect excuse for being in there alone. 

Rey quickly made her way into his room and shut the door quietly behind her. She silently scanned the room to find it perfectly lived in. The sheets were rumpled, his red coat thrown over a sitting chair, and his desk  . . . paper covered. The white sheets fanning across the dark wood. Rey paused, setting about sweeping some and straightening the bedding to ensure her cover, before she moved to the Major’s desk.

The top papers were of little consequence. A list of amenities he was needing for the upcoming week. Rey quickly began lifting papers, careful to keep their original locations in mind. Some blank pages and a beginning of a letter to General Snoke that read only : “Dear General Snoke,” and then below that . . . a list of  _ their  _ suppliers. The Continental Army’s suppliers specifically. Rey gasped taking in the list of farmers and lands that provided them provisions. To a random person this list of names and places would mean nothing but to Rey they meant everything. 

The Continental Army had been careful to keep the majority of their suppliers within the colonies secret (especially those posing as loyalists) but it seemed some names had been leaked to the British. Rey catalogued each name and place in her mind and kept searching. There were no documents to go through left on top of the desk, so Rey moved to the three drawers lining the side. The top drawer had five sealed letters inside.

“Damn,” Rey whispered to herself. The wax seal would be impossible to break right now without suspicion. She needed to replicate the Major’s official seal first and for that she needed the physical copy. Opening the next two drawers, Rey couldn’t seem to find it. It seemed she wouldn’t be able to replicate the seal any time soon. She knew the Major must keep it somewhere else and finding out where would be her next task. 

After a swift glance at the door, Rey returned her attention to the letters she had found. She moved to the window and cast the envelopes to the light, hoping that somehow she would be able to glimpse the contents. One was too thick & stock full of paper for her to see, but a few were slightly see through. Peering closer, Rey could make out a series of lines in the top corner. Small and in chicken scratch. To a regular observer they could be mistaken for scribbles or someone testing ink. But not to Rey.

Her eyes widened. Courier numbers. Rey quickly analyzed each. Yes. Each letter was addressed to either a courier or an agent with these numbers. There were a total of three different numbers and, therefore, three sources. The rest of the letters, from what Rey could gather, seemed uneventful. Coded then. She would need the seal to be able to open on these letters, copy it, and begin working on breaking whatever word game were in these letters. At least she had the number of informants and a vague grasp on the numbers. But . . . as head of intelligence Major Ren would have a book with courier numbers, codes, and other information. Rey returned the letters to the drawer and began searching the room.

Going down onto hands and knees, Rey glanced under the bed. There, shoved against the back wall, was a small trunk. Peering up over the bed to look at the door one more time, Rey slide the trunk out an observed it. It was locked. Two leather clasps locked on either side. Two tumblers then. Rey looked closer at each lock. They were complicated ones too. Rey was a good lock pick for the most part, but this trunk would prove a challenge to undo without damage. She couldn’t risk a hint that someone had attempted to open it. Scooting the trunk back under the bed, Rey heard it. The sound of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. Rey finished putting the trunk back into place and crossed the room to her broom. Just as she had begun sweeping, the door to the Major’s room swung open.

“Oh! Miss Niima,” a voice exclaimed, causing Rey to turn around in false startlement. 

“Finn!” 

“I’m sorry to startle you, Miss, I didn’t expect anyone to be in the Major’s room,” Finn said, lowering his hand from his chest.

“I’m sorry I frightened you as well,” Rey said, setting the broom against the desk. “I figured it would be a good time to clean the Major’s room since . . . well since he has taken to avoiding my presence of late.”

“Ah,” Finn said with a laugh, his eyes glinting. “Yes, the Major has been rather off lately. I would say your decision was a good one.”

“I hope he hasn’t taken out any frustration at me on you,” Rey said with real concern. So far it had seemed as if whatever anger had brewed had since simmered, but Rey had worried about Finn.

“No, no, nothing of the sort,” Finn said, putting her worries to ease. “In fact he has been a lot more quiet than usual. It has been quite a nice break so I must thank you for that.” Rey smiled at his response. 

“Well, I suppose I best to get back to cleaning,” Rey said, picking up the broom.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Finn said, moving around her to the Major’s bed. “And I should hurry back to the Major with his book.” Finn lifted a pillow from the bed then and took a small black journal in hand. 

“He sent you back for a book?” Rey asked, frustrated at herself for not checking the bed before Finn had returned.

“The Major doesn’t like being parted from this for even a minute,” Finn laughed. “There has been many a time I’ve had to make long, exhausting journeys to retrieve it.” Finn sighed then, tucking the book into his coat pocket. 

“I’m sorry for the trouble,” Rey laughed, gazing at where the book was now hidden. That would be another task. If he didn’t like to be a part from it, it must hold something of great value. 

Finn began making his way back to the hall before coming to an abrupt stop. 

“Oh, Miss Niima, I almost forgot,” he said, turning around.

“Please call me Rey.”

“Rey,” Finn smiled, “A letter came for you as we were on our way out. I was going to give it to you when I got back but here we are. A perfect coincidence.” With nimble fingers, Finn dug out the letter and handed it to Rey. 

“Thank you, Finn,” Rey whispered, taking the letter gingerly in hand.

“Of course.”

After Finn had left and only after Rey finished thoroughly cleaning and searching the Major’s room, did Rey rush to her own chambers with letter in hand. After closing the door soundly shut, Rey ripped open the letter and read the contents. In dramatic swirling handwriting was a note telling her of a safe journey and a brother on the mend. It was addressed from Amilyn but Rey knew it wasn’t Amilyn who had written this letter.

Wrenching up the floorboard beneath her bed, Rey scooped out her powder, flipped the letter upside down and brushed some of it across the back of the paper. She raised the page up, blew off the excess in a swirl of white dust, to reveal the same dramatic handwriting.

**_Noon Tomorrow_ **

**_Old Ben’s Barn_ **

**_Poe._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So . . . spy stuff isn't my normal forte! Sorry if any of the logic is wonky.  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!  
> If you guys have any suggestions or critiques please feel free to comment below!  
> Until next week :)


	6. Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> So, I have a much longer chapter for you guys and one I'm really excited to share with you!  
> Please feel free to leave any thoughts, opinions, and critiques.  
> Thanks so much for reading.  
> And to any readers in the States, Happy Thanksgiving!! :D

Rey’s breath clouded around her as she took in the run down interior of Old Ben’s Barn. Frost was already clinging to the darkened corners and the dirt around her feet. On her walk through the woods to the abandoned farm, the gray of the sky had pressed low into the treetops. Even thinking about it made Rey shiver more and burrow deeper into her shawl. Winter was almost here. She wondered how the army was faring after the long winter at Valley Forge last year. She hoped Leia was staying warm. 

Before Rey could ponder longer, she heard a creak behind her. She spun around to see the wooden doors firmly shut. Rey scanned the empty barn silently, holding her breath. Just as she was about to relax, arms wrapped tightly around her from behind and lifted her off the ground. Rey yelped and thrust her arm backward, elbowing the person hard in the chest. A grunt and loud cough echoed in the barn as Rey pulled free, yanking a knife out from her boot.  Turning around, she found a man bent at the waist, a hand pressed to his chest and dark brown curls falling across his forehead.

“I’m going to accidentally kill you one day, Dameron,” Rey muttered, tucking her knife away. “Must you always insist on sneaking up on me?”

“But it is so much fun,” Poe rasped out, straightening with a wince. “Must  _ you  _ always use those pointy elbows of yours?” Rey rolled her eyes at his words and self consciously rubbed her arms.

“They aren’t that pointy,” Rey shot back.

“Right . . .” Poe half chuckled, before straightening his brown coat. “Good to see you alive and well, Rey.” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Rey asked, shocked.

“We haven’t heard from you in nearly a month. I was growing worried.” 

“Oh.” Rey drew back and began adjusting her shawl. “I’m not so bad as to blow my cover in less than a month, you know.” Poe raised his eyebrows at her words and folded his arms. Before he could say anything in response, Rey spoke.

“How is Leia?”

“She is doing well. She was worried about you too,” Poe said. 

“Is that why you suddenly wanted to meet in person? You know this is reckless if that’s the case.” 

“We are aware. But you always seem to underestimate me, Rey,” Poe said, smirking. “I’m the best intelligence officer in the Continental Army . . . and from what I hear about Ren, in the British Army as well. I’m not about to get caught anytime soon.” 

“Ah, there is that ego I missed so much,” Rey laughed.

“But yes, we wanted to check up on you and we also wondered why we haven’t received any intel yet. A month is a long time without anything.” Poes words cut through their easy rapport. Rey looked down at her feet for a moment and then dug into a pocket in her skirts for the parchment she had hidden. She handed it to him.

“Information,” Rey whispered as Poe peered down at her scrawled words. “A group of our suppliers have been compromised. That is the list I found on the Major’s desk.”

“That . . . is worrisome,” Poe murmured, eyes trailing over the names. “We will warn them. Scatter them if we must. I’m sure some will want to stay with their lands though. Those who stay will ensure your cover. But what are these numbers down here?”

“Courier numbers. Major Ren has at least three which means at least three potential spies. Most likely in your camp, in Philadelphia, or both. I’m working on finding his seal to begin working on the letters and codes he is using.”

“Knowing Ren’s status, his seal will be on a ring he wears,” Poe said, folding up Rey’s information, “But is this all?”

“For now.”

“This is a good start Rey, but we need more,” Poe sighed. “How close have you become to the Major over this month?”

“Close enough to do my job,” Rey said defensively. “What are you insinuating?”

“I don’t mean to insinuate anything, but time is everything, Rey, and we need more than this. I don’t mean to put pressure on you and usually spy work like this is done with a light touch, but Washington’s concern is growing. The army and people are restless.” Poe ran his hand through his hair. “We are pushing to end the war sooner.” 

“Are you and Leia safe in camp?” 

“We are for now. Please, don’t worry too much,” Poe said.  _ Don’t distract yourself.  _ That was what Rey knew he was really saying. Rey sighed, releasing another white cloud of breath into the bitter-cold air.

“I am trying to remain in the background, unseen,” Rey said. “I think retaining my anonymity is the best course of action.”

“I disagree,” Poe said, watching her face shift into a grimace. “You may want to consider ingratiating yourself in his company. Become a friend, a confidante, to the Major. I’m sure that man has very few whom he trusts. To get that close would ensure more information and more quickly.”

“At higher risk.”

“You knew of the risks when you agreed.”

“Rose suggested almost the exact same thing you did,” Rey said, letting her irritation coat her words. “Are you all plotting something?”

“Rose sounds wise,” Poe said, avoiding the last question, his eyes glancing to the ground. Rey thought about pushing him on it, but then decided otherwise.

“Oh. Don’t you start. I’m doing what I think best. This is  _ my  _ mission, Poe.”

“Don’t forget, Rey, that I have been your friend for a long time and I know you better than most. Are you truly doing what’s best for the mission or are you taking the route that saves you the most personally.” 

Rey stared at him in silence. For a long moment all that could be heard was the wind creaking the trees around them like an old rocking chair. A cold sort of anger began to frost in her veins. 

“Poe—”

“AH! Before you say anything, because I know that face and I know you are angry, just remember I know your position more than most. I understand the hesitance to get too close. I empathize with the risk both physically and personally to you. You are as stubborn as a mule, Rey, and I know that you would try to accomplish a mission while also accomplishing your own needs,” Poe said. “But this mission is not like your others. Kylo Ren is a specific target with an incredible wealth of knowledge.”

 And like that, with his words, the anger melted off of her. Because . . . well, because deep down she knew that he was right. Deep down she had known Rose was right. She was picking a route that she thought could accomplish something, but she also knew it was the route that would ensure she remembered who she was. That wasn’t a risk to losing her own shaky sense of identity. It was selfish. 

“This is  _ your  _ mission,” Poe continued. “I would never seek to take that away from you but as your superior, I must ask you to reconsider your strategy. For the sake of time and for the sake of the revolution.” 

Rey took in Poe’s face and noticed for the first time the new wrinkles and the weathered look in his eyes. The war was beginning to age him. That vulnerability called to Rey. And for just a brief moment she wished to open up to him. But she couldn’t bring herself to say what she really felt. What she was truly worried about. 

“I will consider it,” Rey said instead, forcing her emotions down. 

“That is all I ask for now. Thank you, my friend.”

With that they made their way out of the barn. Poe moved towards his horse a few yards away. As they began to go their separate ways, Rey turned to give one final goodbye.

“Please be careful, Poe.”

“You as well . . . I’ve seen Ren on the battlefield. He is a monster I would never want to cross.” A darkness coated Poe’s words. Rey shivered.

“I will.”

“We will wait for word. Remember the signal for the courier.” And then Poe was gone. Rey watched the dirt settle where his horse had kicked it up and wondered when she would ever see him again.

***** 

Warm heat and the sweet smell of bread wrapped around Rey as she stepped into the main hall, shucking off her shawl. With a wearied sigh, she attempted to fix her wind blown hair and mind. Poe’s words had stuck with her the whole walk home.

“Rey, how was town?” a quiet voice asked, pulling Rey out of her reverie.

“It was well, Abigail, just cold,” Rey sighed, giving the woman a small smile. Abigail’s dark brown eyes took in Rey for a long moment.

“Rose and I already took care of dinner. You take the rest of the night off.” Before Rey could say thank you, Abigail turned back to the kitchen where Finn and Rose’s voices and laughter tangled together. Rey smiled at her shoes and made her way to the study at the back corner of the house, thankful that Abigail was gifted with reading people so well. 

Now all she wanted to do was escape her thoughts and her mission for a moment, to find a clarity for any future decision. Right now the escape she wanted was found in books.  

Rey quietly stepped into the study and breathed in the smell of parchment and leather. Shelves lined with books that Amilyn and her late husband had gathered over the years lay before her. Immediately, Rey felt a quiet peace settle over her as she made her way to the farthest shelf and gathered her favorite book to her chest. She decided then to allow herself at least a few hours here. Rey rounded the back shelf to sit at the two chairs pressed against the window to find a tall figure slouched there already. Rey froze.

Major Ren scratched the back of his head and turned a page, his lips moving to form invisible words. Hoping to back out of the room unnoticed, Rey started to step around the shelf, but the light shuffle of her skirts caught his attention. Dark eyes glanced up in shock and locked on her. Held under that gaze, Rey realized she wouldn’t find peace in this room today. 

“I’m sorry, Sir, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” Rey murmured, breaking eye contact to curtsey. She quickly turned to leave.

“Wait, Miss Niima.”

His deep voice caught her and held her in place. Rey slowly turned around to find Major Ren standing awkwardly, his book held loosely at his side. She waited in silence as he worried at his lips, as if he was fighting to find something to say.

“Won’t . . . won’t you sit, please,” he said, motioning to the chair beside his. Rey felt the awkwardness pull tight between them like a tripwire. She wanted to run the other way and refuse to sit in that chair . . . but Poe’s words rattled around in her head louder and louder. She knew now that she wouldn’t have time to make a decision. Fate had ensured she would make it now. Rey looked up into the Major’s eyes to see a mix of worry and discomfort. Tightening her grip on her book, Rey made her decision. For the revolution. For America. She sat in the chair. 

Major Ren followed suit by sitting on the edge of his seat, looking more like a rigid board than a man. In any other circumstance, Rey would’ve laughed. 

“I feel we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot,” Major Ren said, glancing up at her. “I wanted to make amends with you. For my anger and for my harsh words. What I said was unwarranted.”

“It is fine, Major,” Rey said, taking in his pained expression. Whether for her or for himself for having to apologize, she was unsure.

“No, Miss Niima, it wasn’t. I—”

“I made you angry on purpose,” Rey interrupted. If she was truly going to go Poe’s route, she was now all in. 

“I . . . what?” The Major looked up at her in surprise. “I . . . I don’t understand.” 

“I want to speak with you honestly,” Rey said, leaning towards him in what she hoped was an open and inviting way. “I heard you and Madam Holdo speaking after that first dinner here.”

“Oh . . . OH.” A comical blush lit his cheeks as he no doubt thought of Amilyn’s assumptions about his interest in Rey. The blush cast aside Poe’s words of him being a monster. In the moment that seemed ludicrous. “Miss Niima, I can explain . . .”

“There’s no need, Major, I know what Madam Holdo was intending. While I respect her decision, I didn’t want you to treat me different from the rest of the staff.”

“I see . . .” The Major trailed off, studying her. “You could have just spoken to me about this, Miss Niima, I don’t quite understand why . . .” 

“I needed you to remind me,” Rey whispered, looking down at the book in her lap, hoping she was doing well at looking vulnerable and small. “Of my place. I was beginning to forget again.”

“Ah,” Major Ren said, softly. When Rey looked back up at him, she was surprised to find a softness in his face she hadn’t seen before. He didn’t push her for more explanation, he didn’t say anything, and he didn’t laugh at her. The Major just sat with her. He waited to simply listen. Rey was shocked. In that small moment she felt as if he completely understood. Before she could wonder if she was continuing for herself or to bring him closer to her through trust, Rey began to tell him all the things she hadn’t said to Poe.

“I care deeply for Madam Holdo,” Rey started, thinking also of Leia. “But I am not truly her daughter. Nor will I ever be. I am her servant. I think . . . sometimes she forgets. And when she does, I do too. But, when she does decide to treat me as my station dictates I remember and I grow to resent her more and more because it . . .”

“Hurts.” Major Ren’s voice was soft. Rey looked up and nodded.

“I can’t go through the disappointment of remembering I don’t belong. Again. And I can’t continue resenting people I care for. With you I could start over and forget about being caught between the two worlds.” At her words, Major Ren leaned back and folded his arms. He studied her for a long while before a half chuckle broke out of him and he shook his head, dark hair falling around his face. “Are you . . . are you laughing at me, Sir?”

“Oh! No, no,” Major Ren said, leaning forward and shaking his hands. “I apologize, I just . . . it is rare to see someone as inclined to self punishment as I am.”

“Self . . . punishment?” Rey asked, appalled.

“I mean, why else would you purposely get me angry?” he asked. Rey shook her head, thinking of all the other reasons he could never know about. 

“You are a self punisher?”

“I am.” It was all he said, but it was enough to hear the ache and exhaustion behind the words. Rey sat back and took the Major in. He wasn’t a man of very many words and yet in the small amount he had spoken to her, she felt like she had glimpsed behind the curtain to an emotional and fragile person.

“I suppose I’ve gone against my own words,” Rey said.

“How so?”

“I’ve just spoken to you very familiarly . . .”

“True,” Major Ren laughed. “Well, let’s just move past all that shall we? If I’m being honest, Miss Niima, I’ve never cared that much for how the colonists or the British do things. In my anger and embarrassment I said things I don’t even believe in. In this house, lets simply respect one another. No stations between me and you or Miss Rose or Miss Abigail. Let’s work together to get through this blasted war, yes?” At that he offered his hand to her. Rey froze. Touching his bare hand seemed completely . . . inappropriate. But . . . Rey grabbed his hand and shook it, trying to ignore the warmth of his skin on hers. And the coolness of his ring.

“This, of course, means you will help with the cleaning?” Rey asked. Major Ren pulled his hand away with a wince, allowing Rey to catch sight of a ring with a symbol that looked just like his seal. 

“Well . . .”

“You already shook on it, Sir,” Rey said, straight-faced. 

“I did, didn’t I?”

“How about we all do our jobs and call it even?” Rey offered a small smile.

“I couldn’t agree more,” the Major said in relief. For a long moment they looked down at their respective books, enjoying the companionable silence that followed. 

“What are you reading?” Major Ren asked.

“A book on botany.” 

“You read books of science?” The surprise was evident in his voice. Rey nodded enthusiastically.

“I love learning about how things work. Plants especially. They seem like the purest form of life.” Rey blushed at her evident enthusiasm before redirecting to the Major. “What are you reading?”

“Ah. Poetry. Anne Bradstreet,” Major Ren coughed. 

“Poetry,” Rey wrinkled her nose. “I’ve never had the patience for it. Why do you like it?”

“I love beautiful things,” Major Ren said. He held Rey’s eyes long enough to begin to make her uncomfortable.

“I have never liked word games,” Rey said. The Major laughed out right and shook his head. Rey sighed, looking out the window at the dimming light before rising from her chair. “I should help Rose and Abigail clean up the kitchen now.”

“Of course.” Major Ren rose with Rey.

“Have a good night, Major.” 

“You as well, Miss Niima.” 

It wasn’t until later that night, as Rey changed into her night shift, that she realized during their conversation she had forgotten that the Major was British and an enemy. That as much as she wanted to tell herself the conversation was just a ploy to make him comfortable with her, she had actually enjoyed his company. And it wasn’t until she was drifting off to sleep that she realized that maybe . . . just maybe she should be worried about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And things . . . are starting to get warmer! Oh, I'm so excited!  
> Until next week! :)


	7. A Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> Sorry for the delay on this chapter. Thanksgiving weekend was crazy!  
> This chapter is a little shorter, but I'm hoping to make it up by posting again on Sunday to get back on my regular schedule.  
> Thank you again for all your kudos and comments! It means the world.

Major Ren’s schedule completely transformed after their conversation. He stayed in the study more often, moving his work to a more public part of the house, and he attended every meal at the House. His horse rides became an every-other day occurrence as the weather dipped into freezing temperatures. It frustrated Rey to no end. 

It meant that she had less time alone and less time to be able to look more into the Major’s paperwork. It did, however, help her track his ring over the week. Which led to a dead-end as he never took the blasted thing off. And so, Rey was still frustrated. To no end. 

And that frustration seemed to melt into the new week as she and Rose began cooking breakfast for the Major and their conversation took a turn.

“Major Ren is rather handsome,” Rose whispered to her, as she cleaned up some scattered flour.

“What?” Rey coughed, turning to face her in shock. 

“Well, I mean he is, isn’t he?” Rose giggled. “He is different from other men, but isn’t he intriguing to look upon?” 

“He is part of the British Army, Rose,” Rey whispered, returning to rolling out the dough. “Worse than that . . . he is a Tory.”

“Just because he’s on the other side, it doesn’t mean he can’t be attractive,” Rose said with a sigh. Rey glanced up to see Rose peering past her out into the hall. There just outside, was Finn, polishing the Major’s boots.  

“Ah,” Rey smiled. “You are speaking of Finn. Yes, I would say he is handsome.” 

“No! I wasn’t . . .” Rose trailed off and shook her head. “Fine. I’m starting to fancy Finn. But don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve looked at the Major.”

“Rose! I have  _ not  _ looked at him any sort of way,” Rey scoffed. 

“Whatever you say, Miss Niima,” Rose said. “Abigail likes his looks too.”

“Whose looks?” a quiet voice asked. Rose and Rey turned to see Abigail come in the back door from outside, shaking snow flurries from her skirts.

“Major Ren’s,” Rose said, brightly.

“Aye, I do.” Abigail said it matter of factly, moving to unload jars of marmalade from her basket.

“Abigail!” Rey exclaimed.

“A handsome man is a handsome man,” Abigail said, a small smile twitching at her lips. Rey stared at her and Rose for a long moment before laughing at such an unexpected response. It didn’t take long for the other two women to join in. Rose’s laugh was as loud and boisterous as a ringing bell, while Abigail’s was soft and more like a light chuckle. 

“Fine,” Rey sighed, after catching her breath. “I . . . I can’t say he is ugly.”

“Oh for shame! I know you can say more than that!” Rose laughed.

“More than what?” a happy voice asked. All the women spun around to find Finn leaning against the doorway, a mischievous light in his eyes. 

“Finn,” Rey said with a smile. “We were just speaking about men’s virtues. Rose has quite the list.” With cheeks flaming red, Rose glared at her. Rey shrugged, gave a sly grin in return and relished the small payback. 

“Oh,” Finn said, glancing at the boots he was holding before staring right at Rose. “And pray tell, what is on that list?” Rose’s eyes widened as she stared in shock at Finn, her mouth opening and closing as she fought to find words. Glancing over at Abigail, Rey had to hold back a snort. She moved to nudge Rose, but before she could a shadow passed over them. 

“Finn are you done with my boots? Also, has the post come ye. . .” Major Ren trailed off, taking in all of them. Rose’s blush, Finn’s awkward look, Rey’s laughter filled eyes, and Abigail’s stoic look. “Oh.” 

“I just finished your boots, Sir,” Finn said, handing him the pair of shoes. “I haven’t received the post yet, but it is likely due soon. I can go out and—”

“That’s alright, Finn,” Rey interrupted. “I can go check for you. I need to speak with the Major anyways.” Rose looked utterly mortified. Abigail gave her a small smile and snuck out the back door. With a nod to Finn and Rose, Rey brushed passed the puzzled Major. 

“Oh. Of course,” Major Ren said, turning to follow Rey into the hall and to the main entryway. “What did you want to speak to me about, Miss Niima?” Rey chose not to reply until they were outside and standing on the porch, the winter air wrapping tight around them.

“Nothing of importance,” Rey managed to say before she fell into a fit of giggles. Her hand came to rest on the front of her bodice, the lacing digging in as she tried to stop laughing. Gasping in the bitter air, she finally looked up, tears pooling in the corner of her eyes. She found Major Ren watching her, his dark eyes unreadable, a small lift at the corner of his mouth the only sign of amusement. “Apologies. That was inappropriate. I just . . . goodness. I got Rose back for teasing me. It feels quite good.”

“I see. And I’m assuming it had something to do with my valet?” Major Ren asked, an undercurrent of mirth filling his voice. 

“That is entirely possible,” Rey responded, moving to lean against the white railing of the porch. Major Ren came to stand by her, one arm resting on the railing as he peered over.

“Or was this all this just a ploy to speak with me alone?” 

Rey stiffened at the Major’s words, pulling back from him. Taking in her reaction, the Major stood straighter, the small smile falling from his face.

“I’m sorry. That was an inappropriate joke,” Major Ren muttered. “I’ve never been one for jesting.”

“No, you’re quite alright,” Rey breathed, leaning back on the railing, thinking it hadn’t quite sounded like a joke. An awkwardness settled over the two as they watched the snow flurries begin to pick up speed, rushing to the ground to melt on the yellow grass. It was cold, but not enough for it to stick yet.

“I sometimes forget we are in the middle of a war,” Major Ren said, breaking the ice. Rey looked up at him, an unspoken question in her eyes. “When I’m here that is. This house feels like it’s resting at the edge of the world. As if it is shrouded in some way, protected from the violence.” 

“I’ve felt that way as well,” Rey said, studying the Major’s face. His eyes seemed distant, as if he was seeing something Rey couldn’t. “You fought before you were stationed here.”

“I did,” the Major reaffirmed, glancing down at her. 

“It seems a man like you wouldn’t want to stay here, at a house on the edge of the world.” 

“A man like me?” A bitter smile curled around his words. “Ah. Yes. My reputation precedes me.”

“I meant nothing by it,” Rey said, thinking that she had in fact meant to slip that implication in. From Poe’s words about being a monster to the stories she had heard of him and General Snoke on the battlefield . . . well, she knew what kind of man he was on the battlefield.

“I requested this position, Miss Niima,” Major Ren said. “I will be the one to bring this war to its conclusion.”

Rey’s breath caught in her chest. She turned to look at him, snowflakes catching in his dark hair. He was watching her, a fire lighting in his eyes where distance use to be. To hear him say something so eerily similar to her own thoughts about her mission made Rey feel unsteady. Covering her feelings with a smirk, she broke eye contact.

“That reeks of arrogance, Sir.”

Major Ren laughed. It was deep and warm. For a short while, he looked almost boyish, the years and war melting off of him. Rey felt her chest tighten in a feeling she couldn’t place.

“Maybe,” Major Ren whispered, a smile still lingering around his lips. “But that is what I want. If it’s what I want, I will get it one way or another.” 

The words chilled Rey to the bone.

“You don’t miss the thrill of battle?”

“Do you mean to ask me if I miss killing?” 

“I  . . . well . . .” Rey couldn’t think of a response. The truth was that she really did mean to ask exactly that. “With the things I’ve heard about you, I want to understand.” 

“I did and will do what I have to do. That doesn’t mean I ever took pleasure in it,” Major Ren said, his voice dropping in temperature. “Others wish I did.”

“It means you have a good soul, Major,” Rey said. “That isn't something to wish away.”

“Don’t mistake me, Miss Niima. I felt nothing when I took lives on the battlefield. No pleasure. And no remorse,” Major Ren said. “I don’t have a soul.”

“Everyone has one.”

“Souls have little worth in this world. Leave them to the Puritans and Quakers,” Major Ren snorted, looking down at his hands. “I’m fine without one.”  

Leaning towards him, Rey saw the slight hunch in his frame and the edge of something deeper lingering around his eyes. It was a look she had seen before. In the mirror. It came with too much of the world getting inside.

“Who did this?” Rey whispered.

Major Ren’s head snapped up. His gaze was piercing as he stared at her. After a moment, a breath escaped his lips, clouding around them into white fog. All that could be heard were their breaths and the sound of snow catching in the eaves. Major Ren bit his lip before finally finding words to respond.

“What do you mean?” he asked, hushed. “Why—”

The harsh, staccato sound of hoofbeats cut him off. Rey turned to see a horseman ride of the winding dirt path to the entrance of the home. With grace, the man dismounted and raced up to both of them, his hands yanking letters from the satchel at his side.

“The post, Sir,” the man smiled, handing the parcels to the Major. 

“Thank you,” Major Ren murmured. The man tipped his hat to both of them.

“Good day, Sir, Miss.” Then he was gone, off to deliver mail to another house.

Major Ren looked down at the letters, before handing one of them to Rey. 

“From Madam Hol . . .” His voice faded to silence and he suddenly stood straight, his limbs stiffening. Major Ren looked like one of the wooden toy soldiers that Rey saw the boys in camp play with before she came to Raddus House. 

With a sharp exhale, Major Ren ripped the letter open and hastily unfolded the letter. Rey watched his eyes scan the lines of the letter twice before they hardened. He crumpled the letter in his hands and threw it to the ground.

“Major?” Rey asked, but before she could even wonder at what had happened the Major had turned, gone back into the house and slammed the door so hard behind him that the window panes to the sitting room shook. Inhaling the bitter air in shock, Rey tucked Amilyn’s letter into her skirts before she bent to retrieve the crumpled paper. She gently unfolded the letter, smoothing the creases to make it more readable. 

**Ren,**

**Expect me in two days time with Canady, Hask, and Peavey.**

**We are all ecstatic to hear of your** **_accomplishments_ ** **and these plans you speak so highly of.**

**I’m certain you won’t do anything to embarrass me, of course.**

**Oh, and do remember I love roast.**

**Snoke**

 

Rey lingered on the names of the renowned generals and commanders in the British Army, her heart racing. But, to see General Snoke’s name sent her into a near heart attack. He was coming here? To Raddus House? So soon?

Rey grinned, folding the letter back up. The task of decoding the Major’s letters could wait. This was the breakthrough she had waited for. To have the General here? To speak of plans? Well, it was too good to be true. Poe and Leia would be thrilled to hear of these turn of events as it hadn’t been expected such a busy general would grace the halls of Raddus House. 

Tucking the letter into her skirts next to Amilyn’s, Rey went back into the house, shutting the door quietly behind her. She peered up the stairs to see the Major’s door closed. Distantly, she could hear his footfalls as he paced in his room. Rey wondered at his odd reaction for only a few minutes before she rushed to the kitchen to tell Abigail and Rose the news. Oh, yes, they would have General Snoke’s precious roast. And Rey would gladly serve it to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! So Kylo/Ben wouldn't be himself without a little angst.  
> And now we shall finally meet General Snoke!  
> I know this chapter is a little bit of filler, but I have a lot of exciting things planned.  
> Thanks so much for reading! Until Sunday :)


	8. General Snoke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> I'm sorry for the delay on this chapter. I thought I would be able to write it within a week but writer's block had different ideas.  
> Originally this chapter was going to be over 5,000 words, but I'm still having trouble with getting the ending just right so I decided to split it so I can at least post something.  
> I already have half of the next chapter done, so I should have it up in the next few days or on Sunday.  
> Thanks for all your kudos, bookmarks, and comments!  
> And most of all, thank you for reading!
> 
> OH! Also, I created my first moodboard for this story! Hopefully, it turned out well :)

Rey couldn’t stop thinking about the Major. It was the look in his eyes. The resignation. She couldn’t shake the image of him looking down at his hands from her mind. How his voice sounded over the sound of the snowfall. For the past day and a half, she found herself wondering more and more about what . . . or who could cause that weariness in his voice. 

The piece of clay she now kept in the pocket of her skirt didn’t help. It was something she had held onto in hopes that, amidst the chaos of cleaning and preparing for General Snoke and Major Ren taking time to wash up, the Major would finally take off his ring long enough for Rey to make a copy of the seal. It hadn’t happened. So, all the clay had achieved was reminding her of the Major.  

“Miss Niima?” a voice asked.

“Huh?” Rey looked up to find Rose snickering.

“I think that spot is polished just fine now,” she laughed, nodding her head at the gold candle holder in Rey’s hand. Looking down, Rey noticed she had been polishing one place over and over. 

“Oh, yes, thank you,” Rey said, quickly turning it around to beginning polishing the rest of it. 

“Are you nervous too? About General Snoke?” Rose whispered. She glanced at the doorway of the dining room and Rey followed her gaze before turning back and nodding to her.

“A bit, yes. But also excited,” Rey whispered back. The two women shared a smile as Rey set aside the candle holder and stood. “I need to get the silverware. I’ll be back.” 

Lifting the heavy, green fabric of her dress, Rey moved to the hall and was about to make her way to the kitchen before movement caught her eye. Looking back, she caught a glimpse of black hair through the banister of the stairs. She quietly made her way to the front of the house to find the Major sitting on the second to last stair, gazing at the front doors. Rey studied him for a long moment, noticing how his eyes seemed to looking at something beyond the dark wood of the doors. His fingers were woven together, his right thumb rubbing back and forth over the back of his left hand.

“Major?” Rey asked, coming around to face him. “Are you all right?” 

Major Ren’s eyes snapped up to hers, the dark brown of his irises catching in the low light of evening. He was silent as he took her in. After a brief moment, recognition sparked in him, his mind returning to the present as he shot to his feet.

“Miss Niima,” he said as he moved to brush off the red sleeves of his coat. “Yes, quite all right.” 

Rey didn’t say anything, watching his eyes glance past her, returning to the doors. With a deep breath, Rey stepped closer to his tall frame and forced him to look at her once more. The need to understand that look in his eyes was pulling at her harder now. She couldn’t help but inquire further. 

“Are you sure? You seem . . . apprehensive,” Rey said. Major Ren stepped off the stairs and moved to stand in front of her. “I know you and General Snoke are close but—”

“Snoke is like a father to me,” Major Ren cut her off. “If I’ve seemed nervous, it is only due to not seeing him in so long. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to finish getting ready.” The Major turned away and began making his way up the stairs. Rey winced at his cold tone and dismissal. A reminder to her that, once again, she had reached beyond herself.

“I apologize,” Rey called up to him. “I overstepped.” Just as she was about to continue on to the kitchen, Major Ren’s voice pulled her back.

“Please,” he said as Rey turned to look up at him. “Please, don’t apologize. I’m glad you care enough to ask.” He nodded at her once, dark hair falling into his eyes, and then he disappeared into his room. 

Rey stared at his closed door. A breath caught in her chest. There was a tenderness and an understanding in his words, as if he had known exactly what she was thinking. That she had felt put in her place. 

With shaking hands, Rey reached into the pocket of her skirts and clenched the clay there, not wanting to think about how his words made her feel. She didn’t have time to ponder it. Nor did she particularly want to. Rey shook her head in an attempt to clear the loose threads of her thoughts. General Snoke would be here soon. She straightened her skirts and continued to the kitchen to finish preparing the dining room for the night ahead.

 

********

Rey missed the fanfare of Snoke’s arrival. Her, Rose, and Abigail all stayed in the kitchen, finishing up last minute preparations as Finn greeted the four visitors at the door. All that could be heard were the heavy footfalls and the swell of voices tangling together before Major Ren’s voice cut them off.

“Welcome to Raddus House, General Snoke.” The Major’s voice sounded steady to Rey.

“Kylo Ren. It has been a while,” a quiet and dark voice smiled out. Rey froze by the kitchen door as that voice crawled down the hall and wiggled itself into the room with her. She shivered. Opening the door a crack, she peered down the hallway at the speaker.

Rey saw the broad shoulders of Major Ren and just beyond him the man who must be General Snoke. He had a thin, willowy frame that his regimentals seemed to barely cling onto, but it was his face that made Rey flinch back. The right side was sunken in and scarred, as if he had been pushed into a fire and held there. If that sight wasn’t enough to make Rey feel uneasy, there was the matter of his eyes. 

They were icy blue and equally as cold. She watched as those eyes trailed over Major Ren, the gaze becoming predatory, a smile contorting his face further. He looked like a hawk circling in smaller and smaller circles until it dove into the field for its prey. It made her feel like running down the hall and pulling the Major away from him which was . . . well, utterly ridiculous considering how the Major felt about the General. But Rey couldn’t shake that instinct as she shut the kitchen door. 

“What is it?” Abigail asked, moving to stand by her side. Rey shook her head and dragged her lips into a small smile.

“They are here,” Rey said, pulling Abigail towards the center of the kitchen where Rose was finishing loading dishes with bread so both could hear. “When you go in there, don’t stare too long at General Snoke’s face. You’ll understand when you see. Tonight we need to blend in. Do not make too much eye contact and say very little.” Both women nodded to Rey as Finn stepped into the kitchen. 

“The guests and the Major are ready,” he said. Moving quickly, Rose and Abigail picked up trays of food while Rey followed behind with the brandy. Rey surveyed the room as they entered, interrupting the loud laughter of man sitting at the end of the long table. 

“Howe resigning was the best thing that could have happened. He was an utter fool who led us to Saratoga. How you can still miss him is beyond me,” the man laughed, eyeing the women as they entered.

“Oh, do be quiet Colonel Peavey,” the heavy-set man sitting between General Snoke and Peavey muttered. “Howe was no fool. He underestimated Washington’s forces. We, however, won’t make the same mistake.”

“Well said Canady, now let’s put aside the topic of resigned commanders, shall we?” The fourth man, who Rey assumed had to be Hask, ran a hand through his gray stubble and looked over at Major Ren, who was sitting rigidly beside him. “What say you, Ren?”

“I couldn’t agree more,” the Major muttered, his gaze fluttering over to Rey as she helped Abigail set the roast on a side table to cut up. Rey peered up at him, but the Major quickly looked away and cleared his throat. “General, my staff made a delicious roast for you.”

“Oh, how splendid.” Snoke smiled and leaned back in his chair, eyes lazily darting towards Rey, who was beginning to divvy out portions to serve. Rose had already begun serving bread, her face betraying her shock as she attempted to avoid looking at Snoke. And Abigail was quietly placing bowls of radish and squash in the center of the table, looking as composed as ever.

With eyes cast down, Rey began quietly serving the roast, starting with the Major and working slowly around the table to Snoke. She felt his gaze following her. When Rey finally placed his roast before him, she could hear her heart pounding loudly in her ears. 

“And who is this?” Snoke asked. Rey pulled back, keeping her eyes towards the floor as she curtseyed. Before she could speak, Major Ren coughed.

“This is Miss Niima, she is running the household while Madam Holdo is away,” Major Ren said, cutting into his roast without looking up.

“I see I have you to thank for this meal tonight,” Snoke said. 

“It is the least I can do for the men fighting for our king and country,” Rey said. “I wish there was more I could do.”

“It is always wonderous to remember there are still loyalists among us,” Peavey said, drawing Snoke’s attention away from Rey. “After months fighting uncivilized rebels, it is like heaven to be here in York.”

“And there are still more loyalists to recruit,” Hask said. “We’ve only touched the surface in the southern colonies. If we can rally the slaves and the loyalists, we will have the rebels running with their tails between their legs.”

“And don’t forget the French,” Canady added. 

All the men broke into loud laughter as Rey excused Rose and Abigail from serving and moved to begin serving the men brandy. A small smirk started to pull at her lips. They were greatly overestimating the loyalists and the South. The British would never understand the colonists like she or the patriots did. It would be their destruction. As she turned to pour brandy into the Major’s glass, she was shocked to hear her own inner thoughts echoed out loud.

“That’s completely the wrong approach,” Major Ren said. “You’ve miscalculated the number of loyalists in the south. By attempting to push the southern colonies to your side you may cause them to turn to the rebels.” Rey’s grip on the bottle of brandy tightened as she poured him a glass, her eyes flickering to him in well-hidden shock. She hadn’t expected such insight from him. It was . . . frightening. Not only what it meant for the patriots, but the fact that Rey had begun to underestimate him. His silence and quiet demeanor had started to trick her into complacency. She wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

“Says the  _ colonist _ ,” Peavey snorted into his cup of brandy. “Who’s to say you aren’t playing us for fools. What say you, Hask?” 

Rey backed away from pouring their drinks with a quiet breath. The temperature in the room plummeted as Major Ren lifted his eyes to Peavey.

“What is that suppose to mean, Peavey?” the Major Ren asked quietly, his voice filled to the brim with venom. “I can’t play a man who is already a fool.” Rey watched Peavey’s eyes widen and his mouth gape open and closed like a dying fish. 

“How . . . how dare you address me without my rank and speak so disgustingly!” Peavey snapped, shooting up. “The utter disrespect—”

Major Ren slowly stood and towered above the table and Peavey.

“And how dare you insinuate—”

“Enough.” Snoke’s voice cut through the swirling anger. Immediately, Major Ren withdrew, his body pulling away from leaning towards Peavey menacingly and returning to his seat. Peavey smiled at Major Ren and winked at him as if he had already won. Rey turned to find General Snoke staring coldly at the Major.

“Major Ren, you forget yourself. Hask is right. The quickest and most efficient way for us to win this war is with the support of the loyalists in the south. They know the terrain and understand the rebels.”

“General—” Major Ren was cut off again.

“I apologize, gentlemen, for the Major’s impertinence and condescension in these matters. His youth and lack of experience cloud his judgement. Now, let us move on to more intriguing conversation. Such as this delicious roast.” 

All the men laughed together, the matter completely washed away for all of them except the Major. His eyes trailed the same pattern on the edge of the wood table over and over as the conversation turned to food, the women at the brothel in town, and other inane topics. Rey continued to keep their cups full but she couldn’t help but let her attention slip away from the conversation and to the Major. She was relieved the men thought his ideas ridiculous, but at the same time a feeling of annoyance for how they were treating him flared up in her.

His cups of brandy emptied more quickly and his eyes grew darker with each passing moment. Feeling unsettled, Rey stopped pouring him alcohol. His anger and unrest seemed to ebb off him in waves, the tide growing with every laugh from Peavey or the others. It wasn't like anything she had seen from him before. The man sitting here was the complete opposite of the man who had stopped her apology on the stairs. There was a sort of moody darkness surrounding him that she hadn’t noticed until now. If this was even a hint of what he could be like in battle, Rey could now imagine what Poe meant when he spoke of him. 

 

********

The conversation swirled on, the Major’s mood soured more and more, and the roast on their plates dwindled to crumbs. Rey was beginning to feel desperate for any information at all before the men left Raddus House. Just as she was about to give up hope and begin clearing dishes away, the topic of conversation finally shifted in her favor.

“Major, how has the intelligence work panned out so far?” Canady asked with a teasing tone. Major Ren sat straighter in his chair, his fingers twitching on the table. He opened his mouth to speak but Peavey cut him off.

“Spying,” Peavey scoffed. “What a dirty business. I still can’t believe you gave up your post for something so . . . disagreeable.”  

“Intelligence is what will turn the tides of this war,” Major Ren said in irritation. Rey moved closer to the table, setting aside the pitcher of alcohol.

“Is that so?” Hask asked, leaning back in his chair. “Whatever happened to that plan you spoke of?” Canady and Peavey’s eyes turned to look at the Major, giving Rey time to slowly begin to pick up the dishes. 

“What are you still doing here?” a voice asked quietly. Rey flinched and glanced up to find Snoke staring at her.

“I was just going to get the dinner-ware out of your way, Sir,” Rey said, lowering her gaze to the hem of skirt. 

“That won’t be necessary,” General Snoke said, with a wave of his hand. “You’re dismissed.” Hesitating, Rey glanced over at Major Ren, but he kept his gaze locked straight ahead. Rey curtseyed, doing her best to hide any frustration, and quickly left the room. She let her shoes make loud clicking noises down the hall towards the kitchen before she slipped them off and doubled back to the dining room, her wool-covered feet sliding quietly across the floorboards. She paused just shy of the doorway and pressed her back to the wall, her head tilted towards the flickering light leaking out into the hallway. It wasn’t long before Rey heard Snoke resume the conversation.

“Yes, Major, we are very keen to hear about your accomplishments.” 

A heavy pause punctuated the statement.

“I’ve placed loyal low-ranking men in the rebel army’s camp, as you know,” Major Ren said. “I also have couriers and informants now placed within Boston. They have been able to gather information about farmers and other suppliers that have posed as loyalists but have been supplying the rebel army. I sent that list to you, General, however, I don’t know if it reached you . . .”

“Yes, yes, I received the list. Those targets are of little importance as of now. But what of the plan you spoke to us about before? Of Washington’s spy ring?” 

Rey sucked in a breath and leaned in closer to the doorway as another long silence filled the air.

“One of my men in camp got close enough to infiltrate that circle. He was able to tell me with certainty that Major Poe Dameron is the head of intelligence and that the code name of their network is Culper.”

Clenching her skirts in her fists, Rey froze. A man had breached Poe’s circle in camp. It was impossible. And yet, Major Ren said it with such authority. Frustration curled around Rey’s stomach, tightening and constricting it like one of those snakes she had read about in her science books. She should have already known this information and been able to warn Poe about the spy. Now, she was too late. Their operations were already becoming known.

“Our intelligence had already concluded that Dameron was the one closest to Washington in these matters. That information is nothing new, Major,” Snoke said, agitation beginning to fill his voice. “Is this Culper a man? Or a place?”

“We are unsure, Sir.”

“And what of the number of men in this network? How many are in our own camp?”

“We . . . are unsure, Sir.” There was a nervous shake in the Major’s voice as he answered.

“So tell me, Major Ren, how it is we have a man in their inner circle and yet, have no other information beyond what we already know and a code name that could mean anything?” General Snoke asked, a dangerous hiss underlying his question. Some light snickering rose from the room. Rey could only imagine it was Peavey. 

“Unfortunately, my informant was caught, Sir,” Major Ren said quietly. “He was . . . hanged.”

“Hanged?”

“Yes, Sir.” 

Rey released her held breath with a woosh, her hands unclenching from her skirts. They weren’t compromised. Poe had figured it out. Rey shook her head. Things of this magnitude couldn’t be missed.

Hearing rising voices, Rey returned her attention to conversation, the frustration loosening its grip on her stomach.

“In other words, one of our men was caught and hanged. But of course, not before they questioned him and uncovered information that is compromising to us. Is that correct, Major?” Snoke asked.

“We don’t know that for sure, General,” Major Ren said in a strained voice. “It is possible. However, my other informants in camp are secure in their covers and haven’t been touched.”

“Oh. Well. I suppose there is some reassurance in that,” General Snoke said sarcastically. “You remember, I allowed you take this position with the understanding that you would bring me results quickly and without mishap. Instead, you have provided me with nothing over the past five months. This is the second time you have failed me, Major.”

“I understand, General, but I have another plan. It is already underway and I’ve made incredible progress. I promise that it won’t disappoint you,” Major Ren insisted.  

“Oh. Another plan, Ren? This should be good,” Hask said. 

“It is,” Major Ren gritted out. “I have made contact with a Colonel of the rebel army who is close to Washington, Major Dameron and many of the Major Generals. He has acknowledged interest in a change of allegiance.” 

It was like all the air had left the room, leaving nothing but silence and a stunned Rey in its wake. A Colonel in the Continental Army willing to change sides. And someone close to Poe. She racked her brain. There were a handful of Colonels it could be, but while she was in camp, Rey had been kept secret and away from the men. She couldn’t fathom who it could be. There was no other choice now. Rey needed to retrieve the seal. Tonight. No matter the cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is a more plot heavy chapter, but originally this chapter was suppose to end with a whole lot of Reylo interaction. I've saved that for next chapter because it isn't quite how I want it yet.  
> Also, I started a Tumblr. Yup, literally started it two days before that huge announcement from them. If any of you still decide to use Tumblr I will continue posting there with chapter updates, moodboards, music to go with this fanfic, and updates if I have to delay a chapter like I did this week. I hope some of the Reylo community still stays on Tumblr because it has been amazing to follow such an amazing fandom.  
> Anyways! Here's the link to my tumblr blog: [InfiniteBlackRose's Tumblr](https://infinitelyblackrose.tumblr.com/)  
> Thanks for reading! Until next time! :)


	9. Talking with the Enemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> Sorry again for the delay. The display on my laptop went out so I had to wait to finish this chapter!  
> I'm really excited to share this chapter with you! I think it is my favorite that I've written so far.  
> Please feel free to leave comments and critiques and suggestions.  
> I hope you all have a Happy Holidays and a very Merry Christmas :D  
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Also I decided my theme song for this fic is "Under Your Spell" by the Sweeplings. If you haven't heard it, you should definitely check it out!

Snoke broke the silence.

“A Colonel? Are you certain?”

“I’ve had many letters from him and he is well known among the rebels,” Major Ren said.

“Creating a turn coat is a delicate business.”

“It is one I can handle. And when I do, we will have access to more information than my previous man would’ve had,” Major Ren said. “Their congress is failing to fund their army properly. With the right motivation and wage, this Colonel will be ours. I won’t fail you on this, General.”

“See that you don’t, Major,” Snoke said. Rey heard the creak and scratch of someone standing up from their chair. Quickly, she pulled away from the doorway and slipped down the hall to put on her shoes. As she was walking back down the hall, Peavey, Hask, and Canady all exited the dining room.

“Finn!” Rey called, making her way towards the men. “Please retrieve the coats for these gentlemen.”

“Yes, Miss Niima,” Finn said, coming down the stairs to enter the coatroom. All the men nodded to her. Peavey even tipped his hat. Rey turned away with a frown, ready for the men to leave already, and looked over into the dining room. The image there made her freeze and pull back against the wall once more. General Snoke had stood towering above Major Ren, his face inches away from the Major’s.

“If you fail me, I will strip you of this position and drag you back to where you belong,” Snoke said. “After everything I have done for you, the last thing I need is more disappointment. Don’t waste my time. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” Major Ren whispered.

“Good. I wouldn’t want any misunderstandings between us.”

“Of course not, Sir.”

Rey listened to the General’s footsteps as he neared the exit before they suddenly came to a stop.

“Oh, and Kylo?”

“Yes, General?”

“Don’t embarrass me like that ever again.” 

Snoke left the dining room and brushed past Rey, leaving a chill of cold air in his wake. She pulled away, attempting to hide in the shadows of the hall, but the General paused and turned to look at her. His blue eyes traced over her face. A slow-growing smile pulled the skin on his face taught, before he took his coat from Finn and joined the other men outside. 

Rey shuddered and closed her eyes, thanking the heavens above that the man was finally gone. Brushing off the General’s gaze, she moved into the dining room.

Major Ren stood with his hands pressed to the table as he stared down at his half-eaten food. He looked like a statue, so still that if Rey knocked him over he would break into a thousand pieces. 

“Major?” she asked.

As if awoken from his trance, the Major burst into movement and sound. He let out an enraged yell and swung his arms across the top of the table, sending dinner plates and glasses flying across the room. Rey jumped as explosions of shattering china rang around her. Shards of glass glimmered in the dying candlelight as they flew through the air. But Major Ren wasn’t done. He raised his fists to crash them down against the old, oak of the table. 

“MAJOR!” Rey snapped, rushing towards him, anger swelling inside of her. Major Ren swung around to face her, his fists lowering to his sides uselessly, an inferno burning in his eyes. With a gasp, Rey stopped moving towards him, realizing how foolish it was to even dare approach him in this state. But before she could worry that his fists would turn towards her, the fire died away, leaving a boy, staring back at her, in its place.

Major Ren suddenly dropped to the floor, scrambling at the pieces of china around him, scooping them into his palms. Frozen, Rey watched this grown man, in his fine regimentals, crawl around the floor gathering scattered pieces of glass and plates. She was shocked. Not that she had finally seen him lash out as Finn had once spoken about, but that he had immediately come back from that state. That was not something mentioned in the stories about him.

“Miss Niima?” 

Rey turned at her name to find Abigail standing in the doorway, surveying the mess. Rey simply shook her head and waved her away. She would take care of the Major alone.

Shifting her skirts out of her way and reaching to grab a big serving dish from the side table, Rey knelt beside Major Ren. They worked together in silence, hands carefully scooping shards of china into the bowl, leaving the thinner shards of glass to be swept up later. Rey listened to his breathing begin to slow into a natural rhythm. Glancing out of the corner of her eye, she saw a blush begin to paint itself across his cheeks. It was as if he was transforming before her very eyes into the man she had lived with for the past month.  

“Miss Niima,” he whispered, sitting back on his heels, staring down at his hands. “I’m sorry.”

Rey tossed some of the last shards of china into the bowl and dusted her hands off. With a sigh, she too sat back on her heels and looked over at him.

“Don’t worry, it’s not Madam Holdo’s best china,” Rey said. “I wondered if something would happen tonight. I used her cheap dishes in case.” Major Ren eyes widened, an offended look materializing on his face. 

“You figured I would do something? That’s . . .”

“Oh, don’t you dare,” Rey scoffed, pointing at him.

“Don’t what?” 

“Don’t you dare get offended when I saved you from killing Madam Holdo’s best china and feeling more guilty than you already do,” Rey said haughtily. “I did you a service, Sir.”

Major Ren looked at her flabbergasted before letting out a shocked chuckle and falling backwards to sit on the ground, his arms flung over his knees. Letting out a laugh of her own, Rey felt relieved as most of the tension left the room. He was calm. For now.

“Yes,” he sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “Yes. I suppose you did. Does this mean I owe you?”

“Of course,” Rey said. Major Ren studied her for a moment and then tilted his head back to look at the ceiling.

“I know what you’re doing,” he said.

“Oh?” Rey asked. He couldn’t know  _ exactly  _ what she was doing. Could he?

“You are distracting me,” he sighed. “Playing it off like I didn’t just have an outburst. Like I didn’t just scare you.” 

“You didn’t scare me.” 

At her words, the Major’s face was filled with disbelief. He worried at his lips in the way he did when he was anxious. 

“I’ve seen far worse than that, Major. It would take more than you throwing dishes off a table to frighten me.” Rey could feel his attention on her. He was waiting to listen. To hear more. But tonight couldn’t be focused on her. “However, I am encouraged by the fact that you know your behavior leaves much to be desired.”

“Are you always so brutally straightforward with people?”

“Only when I know they can handle it.”

“And what on earth has given you the idea that I can?” Major Ren asked, his eyes trailing to the bowl filled with broken glass.

“Perhaps you can't yet. But I think I'm helping you get there,” Rey said, shrugging. 

“Yes. I've begun to notice that . . .” The Major trailed off, leaving the cracking of the candlelight to fill the silence. 

“I think we both need a drink,” Rey said. She stood up from the ground, brushed her skirts off, and held out her hand to the Major. It wasn’t until he hesitated that Rey realized how forward she was being and how inappropriate it was to initiate physical touch in such a way. Swallowing, she reached her hand closer to his, knowing it was too late to pull back. 

Major Ren reached up, his hand slipping into hers, the warmth of his skin tangling with her own. With a small tug, the Major rose from the ground to suddenly tower above Rey. She coughed and pulled her hand away to reach behind her for the brandy and unbroken glasses. 

Quickly pouring them both a drink, she sank into one of the chairs at the table with the Major following suit. Rey took a gulp of the brandy, thankful for the bite of the alcohol. Taking a sip of his own alcohol, Major Ren stared at her.

“I can’t tell if this is out of pity or not, Miss Niima,” Major Ren said, glancing down into the swirling brown of the brandy. “If it is, I would gladly drink alone.” 

“I don’t pity people, Major,” Rey said. 

“No?”

“I hate when others pity me. I have no reason to do it myself.” Rey tipped her glass so it caught in the candlelight. She couldn’t help but think about when she had first come to camp. The look in Leia and Poe’s eyes. No. She abhorred pity. “I’m simply sharing a well deserved drink after having to deal with those wretched men.” 

“What?” Major Ren sputtered into his drink.

“Can you think of a better word for Colonel Peavey?” Rey asked.

“I can think of a thousand,” Major Ren muttered, downing the rest of his glass. Rey refilled his glass and hers. The Major lifted an eyebrow, but took another sip anyway. “The man is an utter arse.”

“I believe you topped my word, Sir,” Rey said, leaning on the table towards him. The Major’s lips curled into a small smile. 

“Besting you doesn’t negate the fact that I owe you for the china, does it?”

“Not a chance.” 

“Ah. I figured not.” Major Ren leaned back in his chair. Rey studied him for a minute, feeling the residual frustration still clinging to him. The image of Snoke’s twisted face inches from the Major’s flashed in her mind. She frowned.

“You know it’s all a game,” she said. The Major took another sip of his brandy.

“What is?”

“The dinner tonight. The socializing,” Rey said. “You just haven’t figured out how to play it yet.”

“I know how to socialize just fine,” Major Ren said, finishing his drink. 

“Your reaction to Peavey says otherwise.”

“Peavey isn’t worth the energy.” He reached for the bottle of brandy and poured more into his glass. 

“Peavey is a pawn,” Rey said, refilling her glass as well.

“We agree on that,” Major Ren replied.

“He’s the man the others use to bait your emotions. To men like them, socializing is just like a game of chess. And a game of chess can’t be won with emotion.”

“My emotions keep me honest,” Major Ren leaned his elbows on the table. “I have no reason to hide what I feel from someone like Peavey.” 

“Showing emotions like that makes you vulnerable,” Rey said. “They can easily turn them against you.”

Her words seemed to fully grab his attention. He turned in his chair to face her, a haze in his eyes starting to appear from drinking the brandy.

“It sounds as if you are speaking from experience,” Major Ren said. 

Rey looked down at her glass, up to the melting candle in front of her, and back to the Major. 

“When you’re a servant, you learn quickly how to play the game. How to survive,” Rey said, quietly. “Living so fully in any emotion gets in the way of that.”

“But there is such beauty in living in your emotions,” the Major insisted, a spark lighting up in his eyes. “There’s a rush that comes with feeling so much and reacting so freely.”

“Spoken like a true poet,” Rey retorted. “Some of us don’t have such a privilege.”

At her words, the Major turned away. She could see a thousand thoughts cross his face, but they moved so quickly she couldn’t seem to read any of them.

“Is this a game?”

“What?” Rey stiffened at his question, tightening her grip on her glass of brandy.

“This. Right now. Us. Is it a game?” Major Ren asked in a playful tone, but there was a deeper question lingering in his words. One that Rey could never answer.

“If it were, what makes you think I would say, Major?” Rey whispered, grinning at him before taking a sip of her brandy. Major Ren’s eyes lit up in amusement, his lips pressed together to stop a smile from breaking through. They both turned to their drinks, falling into a comfortable silence. 

Rey watched wax drip down onto the wood of the table, the candlelight clinging to what was left of the wicks. She felt her eyes droop from the alcohol and the mesmerizing way the little flames danced higher and higher, gulping more air as time continued on. It felt like a lifetime later when the Major broke the silence.

“Why?”

“Hmm?” Rey tilted her head.

Major Ren scrunched his eyes shut, pressing his thumb and finger to the bridge of his nose. The alcohol was finally taking effect. 

“Why . . .” The Major shook his head, as if to clear it of the brandy. “Why try to advise me? Why would you care?”

Rey froze. Why had she? A low hum of panic began to fill her ears. She hadn’t thought when she had spoken to him about it. And it was . . . well it wasn’t exactly helpful to the cause to aid Major Ren. But . . .

See. It was that but. And what that tiny word meant. How it encapsulated the image of Snoke looking at the Major in that predatory way. And all the looks and words and disgust that had been given to her when she had first come to the colonies. The answer then was clear.

“Because the way he treated you was wrong,” Rey said.

His red coat rustled against the chair as he shifted to look at her, understanding dawning across his face.

“You heard him didn’t you? Snoke. Right before he left.”

“Yes.”

“It isn’t what you think,” Major Ren said. “Snoke cares about me in his own way. He wants me to succeed. His methods may seem unorthodox, but he has gotten me to where I am today.”

“It made you upset.”

“Yes. But that just makes me stronger,” the Major insisted.

“Perhaps.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“No. I don’t,” Rey said, turning to face him. “I believe strength comes from respect. From doing what’s right. From kindness.”

“The world isn’t kind, Miss Niima.”

An image of a barnacle-crusted ship swaying in the ocean appeared in her mind. Of two silhouettes walking away from her, down the dock. Of a clammy hand latched around her arm, dragging her away from them.   

“No . . . No, the world is far from kind. But people can be,” Rey whispered, thinking of Amilyn, Leia, and Poe. How they had given her hope that some parts of the world could be kind, even if they could never fully understand her.  “Maybe you will meet someone who shows you that.”

“Perhaps,” Major Ren said, looking away from her and down to his hands. To his ring. Rey’s eyes flickered to his face. There was a tiredness and haze there. But was it enough? 

“Is it your family’s crest?” Rey asked. 

“What?” Major Ren stiffened, his head whipping up.

“Your ring,” Rey said. “I’ve noticed you look at it a lot. I wondered if perhaps you miss them.”

Major Ren curled his hand into a fist, hiding the ring from Rey’s sight. A quiet discomfort settled over both of them.

“No, it’s not my family crest,” the Major said. “Far from it.”

“I’m sorry,” Rey whispered. “I didn’t mean to cause any offense.”

“You haven’t,” Major Ren said. “It is just that I don’t have a family.”

“I thought you mentioned them when you first came here,” Rey said in confusion. 

“I had one once. They abandoned me long ago,” Major Ren said, glancing back to his ring, a hollow sound echoing in his voice. 

A sudden tightness gripped Rey’s chest. Her heart pulled and twisted into something more than a knot. The sound of ocean waves and crying and a yelling voice pulled at her. Rey shook her head in an attempt to rid herself of the memory. Instead, she focused on his words and the look in his eyes. That longing. It was one she had seen so often that it had become normal to her. She had never expected to see it from the man before her. 

Rey reached out and placed her hand on his cuff, her thumb brushing against his hand.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s in the past,” Major Ren said, sitting up straighter in his chair. Rey watched as he took another sip of his brandy. She wasn’t so sure it was for him. How could it be when it wasn’t for her either?

“So what is the crest on your ring then?” Rey asked brightly, tipping her head to get a good look at the ring. 

“It is one I designed myself.”

“Truly?” Rey asked in shock. Major Ren let out a small snort.

“I have other talents besides warfare, Miss Niima.”

Rey held her hand out to the Major, a twinge of nerves shooting down her spine.

“Do you mind if I see?” she asked. 

The Major hesitated. Rey took a worried breath. But without further thought, Major Ren pulled the ring from his finger and placed it in her palm. Rey lifted the gold ring to her face, studying the craftsmanship and design of the seal. 

At first the design seemed only to be extravagant swirls, until slowly she saw how they curved and twisted around each other. It was a K and R in elegant calligraphy, spun together to look almost like a flower. She moved her glass of brandy to the edge of the table and held the ring to the candlelight. The ring was breathtaking. 

“You’re wrinkling your nose again.”

Rey looked up from the ring in surprise. The Major coughed and glanced away.

“You do that when you’re focusing,” he explained. Rey felt a blush rise up on her cheeks at him noticing such a thing and looked back at the ring to hide it. 

“It’s beautiful, Major,” Rey said with a smile. “I can’t imagine beginning to design something like this myself.” 

Rey shifted in her chair, going through the motions of handing back the ring to the Major, before allowing herself to swing a smidge too wide, knocking her glass of brandy to the floor with her elbow. A sharp crack filled the room and the smell of alcohol perfumed the rug beneath them. 

“Oh!” Rey let out a shocked cry and tumbled out of her chair to pick up the mess. Major Ren knelt next to her and began helping to pick up the pieces. While he was distracted with cleaning the mess, Rey shoved the ring into the pocket of her skirt, pressing the seal to the soft clay there. It took only a second to take the impression, rub her thumb across the ring to clean it and continue gathering glass pieces with the Major. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief. 

“I’m sorry, Major,” Rey said.

“You destroyed one glass when I just destroyed God knows how many,” Major Ren said. “You have no reason to be sorry.” 

They both scooped the broken pieces onto the table. Rey grabbed a spare cloth napkin and was ducking down to vainly attempt to soak up the brandy, when the Major bent down as well.

“I can do it, Miss Niima.”

“No, its fi—”

They bumped heads as they knelt over the spill.

“Oh,” Rey said, startled. She made to move away from the Major, but his hand stopped her. He reached up and gently cradled her face, his fingers tangling into her hair at the nape of her neck. His thumb brushed across her cheek bone. Rey stiffened in surprise. 

“Major?” Rey asked breathlessly, confused by the sudden intimacy.

“Can we . . . Can we stay like this a moment longer?” Major Ren whispered, his eyes closing. “Just a moment . . .”

Rey held her breath as they sat there together, his thumb slowly brushing across her skin, his forehead pressed to hers. She watched silently as what was left of the night’s stress washed away from him, a warm contentment growing between them. One that couldn’t continue.

Reaching up, Rey grabbed his hand. “Major.”

Major Ren’s eyes snapped open. A moment of understanding passed between them before he pulled away from her, his hand falling to his side. 

“I think I may be a bit drunk,” the Major said, standing up shakily. Keeping her skirts gripped in her hands, Rey rose with him.

“I think we both are,” Rey whispered, handing him back his ring. “You can go for the night, Major. Abigail and I will clean this in the morning.”

Major Ren nodded.

“Good night, Miss Niima.” He left the room then, his footsteps silent as he climbed the stairs to his room. Waiting to hear the click of the door before moving, Rey stood frozen until a faint snick sounded above. She collapsed in the chair then, staring at the dark stain of brandy on the rug. She felt so . . . confused. Rey tried to grab onto any of her swirling thoughts but they all swam away too fast for her to catch one. Instead, she grabbed onto the clay in her skirt and set it on the table in front of her.

The swirls of the Major’s initials were caught in the dull brown of the clay. It was a perfect impression. Rey had achieved exactly what she wanted, but she didn’t feel any relief or happiness or accomplishment. Just that persistent confusion. And the warmth of Major Ren’s hand against her skin.

“Miss Niima?”

Rey looked up to find Abigail hovering in the doorway. With a quick wave of her hand, Rey ushered her in. 

“What is it Abigail?”

“I just wanted to see if you were all right, Miss,” Abigail said, her gaze falling on the copy of the seal.

“I’m fine, Abigail, just . . . overwhelmed. I’m sure I’ll be to rights tomorrow.” At least that was what Rey was hoping for. She had no idea how she was going to face the Major after tonight. After what he had shared with her.

“Miss Niima—”

“Please call me Rey,” she sighed, cutting the woman off. Abigail said nothing.

“I just want to warn you, Miss, of getting too close,” Abigail said. Rey laughed at the ludicrousness of it all. 

“Ah, so Rose tells me to get close and you tell me not to get close. It seems I can’t do my mission to everyone’s liking.” Rey knew she was coming off bitter, but everything suddenly seemed like too much.

“That’s not what I mean, Miss,” Abigail said, calmly. “Become close to the Major, but not too close. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt. Or to jeopardize what you have accomplished.”

“I will always do what’s right for the cause,” Rey said, looking back towards the copy of the Major’s seal. “But thank you for your concern.”

Rey listened as Abigail left the room, her skirts quietly brushing against the floorboards. Of course Rey would always do what was right, but looking at the swirling initials of Major Ren left her unsettled. She wondered about his voice as he told her of his family, about how he looked so content holding her to him, and how vulnerable he had allowed himself to be as she took what she wanted from him. The right and wrong were beginning to blur like a haze around her and she wasn’t so sure she knew what to do about it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!  
> I wanted to let you guys know that I started a playlist for this fanfic and will be doing a new weekly song on my tumblr.  
> Here is the YouTube link to the playlist: [A Spy's Game Playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLpVv2Cr0M9BOovuRdVfI_D5Ycm5PTTTit%E2%80%9D>A%20Spy's%20Game%20Playlist</a>%0AAnd%20here%20is%20my%20Tumblr%20link:%20<a%20href=)  
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> Until next week :)


	10. Kylo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> I hope everyone had an awesome New Year!  
> Thank you so, so much for all the comments and kudos! It seriously means the world. I'm happy you are enjoying so far :)  
> This week's chapter is a little shorter, but it's from Major Ren's POV :D  
> Please feel free to leave comments, suggestions or critiques below!

The cold wind pulled at Kylo. Its whistling tone yelled at him as he made his way through the heart of the bustling market. If he thought about it, it almost seemed like the wind was trying to warn him away from the market and away from the destination he was working his way towards. But, he thought, perhaps, that was just his overactive imagination at work again. Just like it was whenever he thought about the previous night. Of holding Miss Niima. 

Kylo hunched further into his wool coat, the coarseness rubbing against his cheeks and nose as he slowly shrunk into himself. One thing Kylo would never be fully comfortable with was his height. He is was too tall for his own good. The army had trained his bad posture out of him, but it hadn’t helped his self consciousness, especially when he was surrounded by people. In a market. And if he was being honest, his recurrent thoughts of Miss Niima weren’t helping. 

He was doing his best to avoid the women and men surrounding him and the sounds of yelling sellers when an older man pulling a cart of goods rammed into Kylo, sending him sideways into the frame of a stall selling produce. With a grunt, Kylo rubbed at his side where the corner of the wood had dug in, leaving him with a bruise and a growing irritation. The man beside him was swearing under his breath while reaching to the ground to clean up his spilled merchandise. 

“Bloody arse! Watch where you’re go—” the merchant straightened to continue telling Kylo off, but his words ended in an abrupt stop as he took in the uniform. Kylo straightened himself, unfurling all his height and stature on the man. He may feel self conscious of his height, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t thankful in moments when it gave him an upperhand. Especially over such a rude, little man.  

“You were saying?” Kylo asked, raising an eyebrow.

“My utmost apologies, Sir.” The man fell into a bow, a twinge of panic entering his voice. Kylo felt like walking away and leaving the man scrambling for his things, wondering if the British Army would come for him in the night. And that was Kylo being gracious. 

But he hesitated. His gaze landed on a small box, opened by the fall to the ground. Inside were paint brushes and oil paints. Flicking his coat out of the way, he knelt to retrieve the box, close the lid, and dust it off. The merchant looked up at the Major with wide green eyes.

“You . . . you can have it if you want,” the man stammered out. “Free of charge.”

“How generous of you,” Kylo said, slipping the box into the inner pocket of his coat. It and the white china he had purchased earlier with Finn were perfect. 

“Anything to serve his Majesty’s officers!”  the man exclaimed in a relieved tone. 

Kylo turned his back to the man, started to walk away, but hesitated, his head turning to the side.

“Oh and Sir? Do watch where you are going next time.”

There was a squeaked “of course”  and the sound of wooden wheels racing down the dirt path, far away from Kylo. The Major smirked down at his hands.

“Really, Kylo?” a sultry voice asked. A woman dressed in a low-cut dress was lounging against the building just in front of him. It was the brothel and his destination.

“Bazine,” Kylo greeted her. Her brown eyes lit in amusement as she moved away from the building and slunk down the small alley beside the brothel. Kylo followed behind her, his eyes scanning the small crowd around him, but no-one paid him any mind. As soon as they were out of sight, Bazine threw her arms around Kylo’s neck, leaning her body against his. 

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered into his ear. Drawing away, Kylo untangled her arms from him, wanting nothing more than to rid his nose of her perfume. 

“I’m not a patron,” Kylo muttered, leaning against the low brick wall behind him. “Save your pleasantries for someone else.”

“Then it would be helpful if you didn’t scare away my clientele,” Bazine pouted, folding her arms. With raised eyebrows, he motioned towards the direction the man with the cart had scampered off to.

“Him?”

“Aye, he comes every Sunday to pray with us,” Bazine smirked. Kylo shook his head and let out a breath. 

“Tell me you at least get good information from him.”

“Not everything is about your job, Major Ren,” Bazine said. “He pays my girls quite nicely.”

“I pay you well enough for your information.”

“If you provided your patronage, you could help me in other ways.” With a mischievous look, Bazine leaned in towards Kylo.

“I’m never setting foot in your establishment, Bazine,” Major Ren said, running a hand down his face. “Stop trying to convince me otherwise.”

Bazine snorted loudly.

“One day you will crave a woman’s touch. And when you do, my  _ establishment _ will be here for you, Major,” she said, playfully. Kylo sucked in a breath because she wasn’t wrong. . . nor was she right.

Hazel eyes, glimmering with brandy and candlelight, came to mind. Soft words of understanding and delicate fingers tracing over the cuff of his regimentals materialized like fog off a river. It sucked him under and pulled him into the most hidden parts of himself. He felt the phantom warmth of her skin against his and a need he’d never felt before begin to claw at him. Kylo reached up and tugged at his collar.

“Kylo?”

“Hmm?” He looked over to find Bazine grinning wickedly up at him. 

“Who is she?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Kylo said, dragging his stoicism around him like a shield. 

“Oh, please.” Bazine rolled her eyes. “For an Intelligence Officer, you are a horrible liar. Your face is as red as a baby’s arse in winter.”

“I’m here to talk business,” Kylo snapped. “Do you want your money or not?”

“Well, whoever she is, I hope she can drag some fun out of you,” Bazine muttered, flopping against the wall beside Kylo. “Lord knows, you’re nothing but fire and fury half the time.”

“Bazine.”

“No, you’re right. Half is too generous.”

“ _ Bazine. _ ” Kylo let a low warning fill his voice. 

As if she felt the irritation rising off the Major, Bazine rolled her eyes and raised her hands in mock defeat. 

“Fine.”

“Why did you signal for me?” Kylo asked.

Bazine smiled smugly and raised her hand out to him, a lock of dark hair falling out of her bun. 

“Payment first.”  

“Half first,” Kylo said, pulling the money from his coat and handing her a portion of the coins. “I won’t pay you for shoddy information.” 

“When has my information ever been shoddy, Major?” When her question was met with silence, Bazine sighed. “One of my sources tells me that the top rum merchant here in York is a rebel spy.”

“Wexley?” Kylo had heard of him in passing. He was notorious for being able to get alcohol no matter if it was rain or shine. He was beloved by the whole of York so if this information was wrong it would look bad to arrest him. “Are you positive? What is your source?”

“You know I keep my sources anonymous, Kylo,” Bazine said. “But I can tell you with absolute certainty the intelligence is good. Have him followed. You'll see I'm not wrong.”

Kylo took a deep breath of cold air, a sudden realization hitting him.

“He isn't a spy if this is true.”

“What do you mean?” Bazine asked in confusion. 

“Being a merchant is the perfect cover.”

“For what?”

“He’s a courier,” Kylo breathed. “And if your information and my hunch are right, this means the rebels have been successful in placing a network here in York.”

“Catch him . . .” Bazine murmured.

“And catch the entire network. Yes.” An inferno lit in Kylo’s gut. He felt a determined grin spread across his face. Miss Niima had taken up much of his thoughts, but she hadn't completely erased the General's words from last night. They still clung to him like leeches, whispering at him to do more, to be better. And this was just what he needed to show Snoke that he was capable. That he wasn't an embarrassment. That Kylo could and would change the tides of war in their favor. 

“Wexley is housing some of our officers. I will need to speak with their commanding officer. Thank you, Bazine.”

He was starting to set off for the barracks when a loud cough stopped him. Turning around, Kylo found her staring at him pointedly, her arms crossed.

“Forgetting something, Major?” she asked. 

“Right,” Kylo muttered, pulling out the bag of coins and handing them to her. She took them with a smug grin.

“Thank you,” Bazine said, slipping the bag into her skirts. “And if you need any advice on your mystery woman, you know where to find me.”

“You are incredibly mistaken,” Kylo said, turning away from the teasing. 

“I’m sure I am.” 

Ignoring the snide remark, Kylo walked away, a sense of purpose filling him as the General’s words finally faded from his mind. 

It took him no time at all to make it to the main barracks just north of the market. He had to deal with the aggravating commanding officer, but it led to a success. The men staying with Wexley would visit him the next day. Kylo smiled. This was just the beginning.

While making his way back through the chaos of the market to the edge of town, Kylo didn’t think he could feel any more weightless. That was . . . until he turned the corner and saw her.

Miss Niima was talking to a fruit vendor, the cold pinching her cheeks into a pale pink. She motioned at the produce she wanted with a small laugh. Kylo slowed his stride until he finally came to stop, hovering just a foot away. He felt anxiety begin to tug at his limbs, binding him back to Earth. Worried thoughts about if she felt uncomfortable about last night or if she regretted staying to talk with him held Kylo back from approaching her. 

The green of her dress caught in the early afternoon light like an emerald, making her stand out from the crowd of people surrounding her. She raised her hand and tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear, before paying for the fruit and taking a bag heavy with apples from the seller. Kylo realized too late that she was turning in his direction, leaving him rooted to his spot. Hazel eyes met his. A sudden flare of recognition lit them. With a shuddering breath, he waited for Miss Niima to ignore him. For her to simply walk past him with a courteous hello, leaving him alone in the sea of people. But, to his surprise, that is not what she did. 

A smile bloomed on Miss Niima’s face as she gave him a small wave and made her way through the crowd towards him. The anxiety holding Kylo in place snapped like brittle branches. The weightlessness was back. And so was a new, warm feeling that kneaded at his core and curled up to rest within him. Watching her skillfully weave through people, Kylo stood still and tried to reason out what exactly the feeling was. His brain couldn’t puzzle it out. But if his imagination had anything to say about it, he knew exactly what that warm feeling could be. 

_ Hope _ . 

Of course, Kylo also knew that his imagination had always been overactive. So, he chose to ignore all the voices in his head and to, instead, wave back at the woman who was making her way to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> Until next week! :)
> 
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> 


	11. Realizations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> Thanks so much for all the kudos and comments and love!  
> Feel free to leave critiques or suggestions below.  
> I hope everyone has a wonderful week :)

Rey had exactly two letters and one piece of clay in her skirt pocket as she tiptoed out of her room. It was early in the morning—the night was still clinging to the edges of the sky, leaving Raddus House in a dim gray.

The Major was up too. She could hear him pacing in his room again. If his anxiety was due to her or Snoke, Rey was unsure. She told herself it didn’t matter. She would pretend like nothing had happened last night and leave things how they were before . . . well, before. At least that was her plan. But if Rey was being honest with herself, she knew that actually seeing Major Ren would change everything, because she couldn’t seem to shake him from her head.

From the moment she had woken up, Rey’s confusion remained stuck to her, the Major’s words repeating in her head. Words about his family. About Snoke. Words asking her why she would care about him. The person Major Ren was, was beginning to unfurl before her and she found herself repeating the same thought over and over: that she didn’t like it.

Rey’s biggest weakness was not an overactive imagination but an insatiable curiosity. A need to understand how things worked and why things were the way they were. She had always prided herself on this quality. As a spy it had seemed to be a strength. Until now. Knowing who Major Ren was or what he felt or why he was the way he was just complicated everything. And it perpetuated this blasted confusion that followed Rey all the way to the front door like a storm cloud.

“Miss Niima?” a soft voice broke Rey’s reverie. Pausing with her hand on the cool brass handle, Rey turned. Rose stood a ways down the hall in a dressing gown, her eyes still blinking away sleep. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to town to restock our supplies,” Rey whispered. “I should be back in the afternoon. Will you and Abigail take care of the dining room while I’m gone?”

“Mhmm,” Rose yawned.

Rey nodded, turned the handle and was about to leave when a thought pulled her back.

“Please prepare porridge for the Major. I’m sure he has a hangover.” Rey didn’t wait to see if Rose responded and instead quietly slipped out into the bitter cold.

The walk to town wasn’t far, but in the cold and with the weight of secrets in her pocket it felt like hours before Rey finally made it. The market was already waking up. Sellers were setting up stalls and tradesmen were opening their doors. Rey smiled at the yawns and sleepiness of the people around her, wishing to return to bed herself. She hadn’t sleep throughout the night. Her mind wouldn’t let her.

Rubbing at her eyes, Rey pushed onwards to the center of the drowsy market. When she made it to a small shop on the corner of the main road, she pulled a small piece of green ribbon from her hair. Rey glanced around but there was no one near her. She quickly tied the ribbon on a branch of a tree facing the front window of the shop and walked away. Now all she had to do was wait.

Wandering past shops and stalls, Rey finally came upon the post office. She took her time delivering one of the two letters to Amilyn before moving on. She passed the blacksmith’s, waves of heat billowing out of the building, the smell of iron hanging heavy in the air. Peering inside she found Jarek—the blacksmith—hammering at horseshoes. They nodded to each other before she continued on through the market. For the first time since arriving in York, Rey didn’t think about the war or spying or the Major. Instead, she thought of the colors of dresses and coats surrounding her and of the tall oak trees towering high above the edge of town. She contemplated the simple things.

The calls of sellers rose above the waking streets. Rey brushed past several stalls selling produce, hesitating beside one selling bright, red apples. She decided she would come back for them after. And, like that, Rey spent an hour circling the market, the cold falling away from her as she observed the comings and goings of the people around her. For a moment she felt normal.

Until she passed the corner house again and saw that her ribbon was gone from the tree. She remembered, then, her purpose for being in the market in the first place. A smile pulled at her even as she began to mourn for that hour passed in complacency.

With clipped steps, she changed directions, heading back towards the blacksmith’s. Rey passed the dark wood of the building and around to the back. Several feet away—surrounded by overgrowth and trees—was an abandoned shed. Checking that she was alone, Rey made her way to the shed and ducked inside.

“Wexley,” Rey said. A tall, burly man straightened from slouching against the back wall of the shed.

“Niima.” A cheerful and loud tone filled the shed. “You signaled. What do you have for me?”

Rey reached into her pocket and pulled out the second letter—her hands fiddled with it before handing it to Wexley.

“This needs to go to the dead drop immediately. Are you transferring a rum shipment any time soon?”

Snap Wexley took the letter from her, his eyebrows furrowed. “I just got back from a trip not a week ago. This is urgent?”

Rey thought of the possible turncoat in camp with Leia and Poe. That letter had to get to them as quickly as possible. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t.”

Wexley rubbed at his well trimmed beard. His eyes squinched in thought. After a brief moment, his face lit up and he stuffed the letter into the pocket on the inside of his coat.

“I know a British General outside of York that has been clamoring for more rum. He would be delighted if I move up the delivery date. That would give me the excuse I need.”

“How long will it take for you to make it back to York?”

“Two days,” Wexley said. “Though the missus won’t be too happy no matter how long I take.”

“I’m sorry to ask this of you on short notice,” Rey said, fiddling with her wool shawl. “Are you still housing soldiers at your home?”

A gloom swept across Wexley’s once jovial face. His smile was now eclipsed by a weight Rey could not see.

“We are. They are stationed here through the rest of the winter. I’ve requested they be moved but no one will listen to me.”

“What’s wrong?” Rey asked. Wexley had never done anything to compromise his cover, but requesting such a move could do that.

“One of the men has taken a liking to my oldest daughter.” Wexley grimaced as he said the words. “My daughter doesn’t reciprocate his . . . advances.”

Rey reached out and placed a comforting hand on Wexley’s shoulder. A smoldering anger simmered inside at his words. “We will win this war. And when we do we will drive them all from York.”

“Aye, that we will,” Wexley nodded, a small smiling returning. Feeling her face brighten, Rey turned to him with an idea coming to mind.

“I can ask the Major for help in this matter. If you would like,” Rey said.

“No. No don’t do that,” Wexley said with an earnest shake of his head. “Your cover is too important to compromise it in any way. If I’m caught, a request like that could tie you to me. We can’t have that.”

“You won’t be caught, Wexley, don’t say such things,” Rey said, her hand falling away from him.

“None of us know our futures, Miss Niima.” The foreboding words seemed to war with Snap’s happy demeanor, his upbeat tone returning to his voice. Nodding her head, Rey looked down at her hem, lined with mud.   

“I have another favor to ask,” Rey said. She reached into her pocket and rolled the hardened bit of clay around her fingers. “But know you don't have to take this on. I can figure it out myself if need be.”

“You know I’d do anything for a friend of Leia’s,” he said, pulling his coat tighter around him. “And for Han’s too.”

Rey stiffened. The clay fell away from her fingertips. “Of course.”

Noticing her change in demeanor, Wexley drew back, his head tipping up. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have mentioned him if . . .”

“No. It’s quite alright,” Rey breathed out. “I just. It. Well. It still hurts. To think of him.”

“I see,” Wexley said quietly. “Time will heal that. You’ll be able to think of him again.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” Rey murmured before pulling out the piece of clay, her thumb brushing against the copy of Major Ren’s seal. She handed it over to Wexley. “I need to make this into a seal, it does me little good as just an impression. Can you find someone who can do that?”

Wexley took the clay from her and studied it closely—his eyes widened in realization. “Is this . . .?”

“Major Ren’s? Yes. That's why I need your help. I need someone outside of York to make it. No-one can recognize it.”

Tucking the clay impression into his coat pocket with her letter, Wexley said, “It would be my honor.” He patted his hand over his heart and the contents hidden there with a big grin. Rey couldn’t help but smile back.

“Thank you, Wexley.”

He put his hat back on and moved passed her to the door of the shed. Just as he was about to disappear into the late morning light, he paused beside Rey and ruffled her hair.

“Agh!” Rey pushed his hands away and tried to fix the mess of her hair, locks falling from her bun. “Wexley!”

“I know Han was like a father to you,” he said. “And I know that we don’t know each other very well. But I wanted to tell you that I will always be here if you need me.”

Rey’s hands fell from her hair while an emotion she couldn’t name welled up in her throat. She tilted her head to look at him and his big teddy bear grin. Not knowing how to respond, Rey nodded, glancing away to hide the film starting in her eyes.

“Alright,” Wexley said quietly, opening the door and stepping out.

“Snap,” Rey said, stopping the door from shutting all the way. She heard him hesitate outside. “Be careful.”

“Always am, Niima.” The crunch of chilled grass followed him as he left the shed behind. Rey leaned against the back of the door and took a few breaths, listening for any other movement outside. When she was certain that no-one was there, she ducked out and blinked away the sunlight and the remnants of her swirling emotions.

As she walked back into the market and the swirling mass of bodies, Rey came to the decision that she wasn’t ready to go back to Raddus House. That more than anything, she wanted to avoid Major Ren for a little longer. To avoid that awkwardness and change that was sure to come of them seeing each other again. And to try and forget that storm cloud of confusion still hovering above her. All Rey wanted now were apples. So that’s what she set off looking for.

It didn’t take much time at all for Rey to find that produce stall again. The one with the old woman—with a weathered smile—gently setting out red and green apples for sale. When she approached that smile grew bigger and bigger.

“Does the young miss want some fruit today?” the woman asked, a crackle of age in her voice.

“I would love some apples,” Rey said, pulling out her coin purse. The older woman nodded enthusiastically and grabbed a cloth bag to begin bundling away the fruit. As she was reaching for some green apples, Rey waved her hands and stopped her. “Actually, I was hoping for red apples today. As many as you can spare.”

“Red?”

“Yes,” Rey said. The old woman raised her eyebrows. A conspiratorial glint flickered in her green eyes.

“But red is such an awful color,” the woman whispered. “Like those dreadful lobsterbacks. I can’t deny the taste is decent enough though.” Rey’s first instinct was to look around. After realizing no-one had heard, a loud laugh bubbled from her lips. She shook her head as the mirth subsided.

“I can’t help but agree with you,” Rey whispered with a wink. The wind kicked up and a loose lock of hair fell into her face. She pushed it behind her ear in annoyance and payed the seller, taking the bag of apples from her. Rey was about to thank her when the old woman’s gaze darted past Rey.

“Although . . . red does looks quite handsome on some,” the woman hummed. Cradling the bag of apples to her chest, Rey turned to see what the woman was talking about. And froze.

Major Ren stood a few feet away, the early afternoon sun lighting his uniform up in a red blaze as brilliant as the apples she was holding. He was wearing his tricorn hat and his hair was pulled back in a low ponytail. Normally, he took great pains to hide his ears, but today they peeked out just a little from his black curls. And the look on his face left Rey feeling less upset about fate foiling her plans of avoiding him for just a little longer.

He looked absolutely . . . distressed. Anxiety was written in the fine lines of his face and showed in how he was beginning to worry at his lips in the way he always did. Rey sucked in a breath, tightening her hold on the bag of apples, as the realization crashed into her that his pacing this morning was not about Snoke—it was about _her_.

It was about her and that made Rey feel something she hadn’t in a long, long time: in control. With the chaos of the war and the stress of spying and the confusion of growing to know this strange man, Rey had felt as if she was caught in the ever changing tide of her mission. But, this man, looking as if he was about to run away from her and run toward her at the same time gave Rey pause.

If she had this effect on him than perhaps she had more power in this situation than she had first thought. And that cloud of confusion that hovered over her? She suddenly wished for it to rain down on her, because if she did have this sort of power than perhaps she could get what she wanted—feed her curiosity about this Major Ren and gain a successful end to her time at Raddus House. And that haze of right and wrong that had clung to her since the end of dinner? Let it be. She couldn’t control that feeling, but she could control _this_. Now. This moment with Major Ren.

It was with these realizations that Rey made a decision. She looked up through the swirling crowd before her to the stunned face of Major Ren and smiled. She moved the apples to one arm and waved at him. She wove her way through the crowd towards him. And she watched as his face flitted from distress to apprehension to awe, his hand moving to pull his hat from his head.

Finally emerging from the waves of skirts and coats, Rey stood before him, the cold air and her decision leaving her utterly breathless. She stared at his hands as his fingers tightened into the felt of his hat.

“Miss Niima.” His voice was low and husky. Rey’s eyes flickered up and stayed locked on his wide eyes. She smiled wider as Major Ren bit at his lip, a small returning grin growing there.

“Major.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!  
> More Reylo conversations to come next chapter. I'm so excited!!  
> Until next week :D
> 
> My tumblr:[InfiniteBlackRose Tumblr](https://infinitelyblackrose.tumblr.com/)  
> ASG Playlist: [ASG Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5CynEFYJALjYPTcRBYPrKK)


	12. A Walk with a Dash of Conversation and Apples

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> Thank you for all your comments and kudos! I appreciate all the support.  
> I hope you all have a splendid week!

The road back to Raddus House was long and winding with divots from dirt kicked up by carriages and horses. Fields of yellow, rippling grass reached out on either side of it, leaving Rey feeling as if she stood in the middle of an ocean. She glanced at Major Ren—from the corner of her eye—taking in his rigidly straight posture and his hands, which couldn’t seem to stop fidgeting with the cuffs of his coat. Rey grinned down at her skirts before turning her gaze to the sky, listening to the sounds of the wind in the tall reeds, the echoes of a pair of footsteps, and the awkward silence the Major was still clinging to.

When he had asked if he could walk her back, Major Ren still had a small smile on his face, but as time passed it slipped away, unreadable thoughts floating across his face. He had fallen silent, allowing the space between them to fill with unsaid things about the night before. The longer the silence continued the more Rey wished for him to speak. Finally, her curiosity could take no more.

“Are you scared of me, Major?” Rey asked, teasingly. Major Ren’s head whipped up from staring at his boots. He looked at her blankly as if her words had dragged him from a dream.

“Pardon me?” he asked, a wrinkle of confusion appearing above his eyes.

“You haven’t spoken since we left town,” Rey explained, raising her eyebrows. “I can only assume that I've scared you in some way.”

Major Ren’s cheeks flushed a dusty pink, the color spreading to the tips of his ears. Rey observed his sudden change in demeanor with a gleeful silence. Biting the inside of her cheek to stop laughter from bubbling out, she made a show of adjusting the bag of apples in her arms. “Also, you have yet to offer your assistance with carrying these—”

“Oh!” he exclaimed with wide brown eyes. He reached for the bag of apples and took them into his arms. “My apologies, Miss Niima. I should have—”

“It’s an honest mistake,” Rey reassured him. “But it doesn’t keep me from wondering if I’m truly that frightening.”

The Major fell silent again. He shifted the bag of apples in his arms and turned his gaze to the road ahead of them.

“Major?” Rey asked, her teasing voice falling away. “Don’t tell me I actually frighten you.”

“Lord no,” Major Ren said. He let out an awkward laugh. “I’m just . . . ashamed.”

“Ashamed?” Rey asked in puzzlement.

“Of last night,” he said, daring a glance at her. “Of my behavior towards you. And of how inappropriate I was.” His blush burned brighter at his admission.

“Oh.” Rey wasn’t expecting that.

“You have my utmost apologies for acting in such an ungentlemanly way,” Major Ren said. He came to a stop and straightened taller, his jaw set. “I’m sure I made you feel uncomfortable. I will not force my company on you in the future if you so wish.”

Rey nearly burst out laughing at his stern face and the way he appeared about to receive the worst punishment of his life. All while hugging a bag of apples to his chest. She wondered if he was always this dramatic. But she also felt a warmth settle in her chest at him giving her that choice.

“Major, I can assure you that I’m quite alright. I will admit some feelings of awkwardness when I woke up this morning, but that is the only injury that was incurred,” Rey said. “We both were rather intoxicated and not ourselves. I don’t see why we can’t forget what happened.”

Rey observed the Major’s face change at her suggestion of forgetting. “I see.”

“Unless there is some other reason for not doing so,” Rey said. She wondered what that look could mean.

“No. No you are right in your suggestion,” Major Ren said, beginning to walk again. Rey fell in step beside him, the wind whipping her skirts around her legs. Rey waited for him to say more.

When he didn’t, she shook her head—loosening more strands of hair from her bun—and stepped in front of him. He stopped with a dazed look in his eyes as Rey pulled at the tie of the bag in his arms. She opened it and pulled out two apples. When she held out one to him, he hesitated for a second before taking it from her, his fingers brushing against her own. Drawing away, Rey took a bit of her apple, enjoying the sweet taste.  

“I’m not allowing you to end the conversation there, Major,” Rey said, turning and continuing down the road. A moment later, she heard his footsteps hurrying to catch up.

“Are you quite alright, Miss Niima?” Major Ren asked.

“I’m fine. Why do you ask?” Rey took another big bite of her apple.

“You seem . . . well, different today,” Major Ren said, appraising her before turning his attention to his own apple, the bag shifting in his arms.

He wasn’t wrong. Rey was different. She was heady with the ability to keep the Major on his toes. Of having that bit of power. It was equally frightening and exhilarating as it made her want to see how much she could say and do. It felt like freedom to not have to only think of her station and her mission.

And Major Ren was different too. Rey had seen him revert into this state of shyness before, but never to this degree. Never to the point of him struggling to look at her.

“Do I? Perhaps it is the fresh air and trip to the market. I feel happy today,” Rey said instead. “Now ask me a question, Major. We can’t have any more silence on the rest of the way back.”

“Ask you a question?” Major Ren looked over at her wonderingly.

“Anything.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he considered her request. After a moment of thought, his face smoothed and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“What is your favorite plant?” he asked.

It wasn’t the kind of question Rey expected. And that confusion must have shown on her face because the smile that was blooming on the Major’s lips suddenly wilted, insecurity rooting there instead.

“Was that not a good question?” he asked, eyes darting back to his uneaten apple.

“No! It isn’t that,” Rey quickly reassured. She was surprised at his response. “Just an unexpected one. Why worry about such a thing?”

“It seems I can’t do things completely right when I’m with you,” Major Ren said before finally taking a bite of his apple. Rey waited for him to say more, but he remained silent, focusing his attention on the apple instead.

“To answer your question,” Rey said. “I have always loved trees the most.”

“Trees?”

“Yes. Oak trees especially,” Rey said.

“Ah.” His smile flickered back.

“Is my answer not to your satisfaction?” Rey asked. At that the Major let out a quiet laugh.

“No. I suppose it is just that the answer is as unexpected as the question,” Major Ren replied. Rey snorted.

“What? Did you think I would answer with a kind of flower?” Rey asked jokingly.

“The thought crossed my mind.”

“Flowers are decent enough plants,” Rey said, tucking another stray lock of hair behind her ear just as the wind decided to kick up again. “But I prefer trees without question.”

“Why do you prefer them?” Major Ren asked, taking another bite of his apple.

Rey gazed out at the far distant line of trees, spotting some gnarled arms of oaks reaching out into the clouds, as if to hold them from blowing away. She saw one in particular that held her interest.

“Do you see that tree over there?” Rey grinned, pointing to it.

Major Ren turned to gaze out in the direction she was motioning. He squinted his eyes as his gaze trailed across the tree line until he saw the tree she was speaking of. “Yes.”

“That’s a white oak,” Rey said. “Do you know how long they live?”

“I haven’t a clue,” Major Ren said. “But I’m assuming you’ll tell me.” There was a thread of amusement underlying his words.

“They can live for six hundred years,” Rey said. “That one there may be a few hundred years already, but will continue to stay there long past us dying. It will live through things we couldn’t even begin to fathom. Isn’t that amazing?”

When Rey turned to see the Major’s reaction, she found him staring at her intently, a warmth lingering in his eyes—it was almost like the contentment she had found there last night as he held her to him. A hiccup of breath caught in her throat at being looked at in such a way, but before she could say anything the Major turned his attention back to the road with a cough, realizing that he had been caught.

“That is if it doesn’t catch sick and die first. Then we will outlive it,” Major Ren said.

Rey huffed at his response, trying to shrug off the feeling of his gaze.

“Do you always look to the negative?” Rey asked.

“Always,” the Major replied teasingly. “I suppose it is simply a habit now.”

“Well, that oak will continue living on,” Rey said, lifting her chin. “It will live beyond this war. It will see what this land becomes and what we become with it. Always there, watching over us. Never leaving.”

“So your preference lies in the permanence of the trees,” Major Ren said with a nod.

“Flowers are fine, but they don’t last,” Rey said with a shrug. “Some may last a week while others only last a day. What is the use of loving flowers when they disappear on you?”

“But isn’t that beautiful?” Major Ren asked, shifting the bag of apples once again. “Knowing you only have a set amount of time to really enjoy a flower makes you appreciate it more. That ethereal nature forces you to remember flowers. Trees though . . . because of their permanence they are often forgotten and left in the background.”

“I think you’ve read too much poetry,” Rey muttered. The Major’s smile twitched.

“I don’t know, Miss Niima, the way you spoke about your oak tree tells me you have a poet deep down inside as well,” he said, finishing off his apple. Rey shook her head, choosing not to say anything, instead focusing on finishing her own apple. After only a core remained, she threw it into the field for the birds to eat.

A gust of wind blew against them and the Major reached a hand up to hold onto his hat, his eyes tearing up at the cold. More of Rey’s hair was pulled from her bun. Deciding to no longer fight the inevitable, she reached up and yanked the ribbons and ties away, allowing her hair to tumble down her back. It felt good to let the wind to blow her hair away from her face.

She closed her eyes, allowing the bite of the cold to tangle in her hair and pinch pink onto her cheeks, knowing she would pay in knots later. Noticing, that the Major had once again fallen silent, Rey opened her eyes to find him staring at her undone hair. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Feeling suddenly uncomfortable at her choice, Rey closed her eyes again and wondered at his reaction.

“I apologize for being inappropriate, but I couldn’t stand my hair being only half done,” Rey said. The sound of Major Ren’s coat rustling and the crunch of his footsteps quickening echoed between them.

“It’s alright,” Major Ren’s voice rumbled out. Rey’s eyes flickered open once more to take in the afternoon haze of the sun finally breaking through the clouds. Silence fell around them, weighing suddenly heavier than it did before. After a time, the Major glanced over. “I thought we were to keep the conversation going until we made it back, Miss Niima.”

“True,” Rey murmured, tucking her hands into the pockets of her skirts.

“Aren’t you going to ask me a question now?”

Rey hesitated.

“I have a question I want to ask, but I don’t want to upset you,” Rey said peering up at him. The Major look over at her in interest.

“Now I’m curious. I suppose you better ask.”

Rey took a deep breath.

“When did your family abandon you?” The words came out fast and breathless, as if the speed could somehow lessen the weight of them. Major Ren sucked in a breath.

“Oh.”

In that one word, Rey began to regret her curiosity about the Major’s past. She should know how it felt to have someone pry and yet . . . the urge to know more lingered. To see if maybe someone else understood.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I just—”

“It’s fine.” The Major’s reply was quiet, his hands tightened around the bag of apples. “I was in the beginning of my youth.”

“What happened?” Rey whispered, trying to wrap her mind around Major Ren as a child.

“That’s a complicated question.” Major Ren let out a dry laugh. “My parents were there for me when I was a child, when I didn’t cause . . . _problems.”_

“Problems?”

Major Ren winced a little and looked away from Rey.

“I had . . . more outbursts when I was younger. When I was angry or sad or frustrated, I just couldn’t hold it in,” Major Ren murmured. “I felt as if every emotion I was feeling was crawling out of me, like my body couldn’t contain it. The need to just escape myself would come to the surface and then . . . I’d explode.”

“Do you still feel that way?” Rey asked, tilting her head.

“Sometimes,” the Major said. “You saw me after dinner. That overwhelming feeling doesn’t happen as often as it did when I was young.”

“So, your parents . . .”

“They were scared of me.” A bitterness leaked into his voice. “The older I got the more distant they became. My mother would turn to writing friends and entertaining company. My father . . . well, he would disappear from the home for weeks at a time. I rarely saw him. I knew they didn’t want to be around me. It wasn’t until later I found out what they feared most.”

“And what was that?” Rey asked, fully engrossed in his story.

Major Ren turned to look at her, his eyes darkening with memories.

“They feared me becoming my grandfather,” he said. “He was not a kind man. I think they saw him in me.”

“I see . . .”

“Do you?” The question was partnered with a scoff. Rey glanced to the moving hem of her skirts as she walked.

“No. I suppose I don’t.”

“My mother and father sent me away after a horrible fight,” Major Ren continued. “They told me that I could only return when I had become a proper man. That they didn’t want to see me until I looked like their son again. I was given into my Uncle’s care so he could teach me how to control myself and how to “act properly” in society. I never saw my family again after that.”  

A sick, tumbling feeling roiled in Rey’s belly. She knew that rejection all to well herself and seeing it play out for another did nothing to ease her own thoughts and past distress as she had hoped. Before she could linger too long in her mind, the Major continued.

“You know, I did always try though. To stop the outbursts that is,” Major Ren said, a distance growing in his eyes. Remembering. “I hated how they looked at me after, as if I was some dark, unholy thing and not their son. I didn’t want that. How could anybody want that? I just . . . I wanted them to see me. But I was never controlled enough. I didn’t want what they wanted for me. I simply was never good enough for them.”

The Major turned to look at her then, a thin film clinging to the corners of his eyes, his lips worrying again. Rey reached out, without thinking, settling her hand at the crook of his arm as she told him a truth.

“None of us are perfect in this world, Major, how could we be?” Rey gave him a wobbly smile. “But beyond your outburst and hot-headedness, I’ve seen a good man. I think, perhaps, they would be sorry about what they’ve missed.”

Major Ren looked down at her hand resting on the red of his sleeve. Shifting the bag in his arms, he reached out and settled his hand across hers, his thumb brushing against her knuckles.

“Thank you, Miss Niima,” he said his breath freezing in the air. “Truly. Even if I don’t fully believe it.” They pulled away from each other and continued walking. Rey noticed Raddus House in the distance. They were almost home.

“At least I have had General Snoke by my side,” Major Ren said, drawing Rey’s attention away from their destination. The feeling in her stomach turned to ice at the mention of the man. She bit her tongue, holding back her thoughts on Snoke. “He has always seen the potential in me.”

“When did you meet the General?” Rey asked.

“He was an acquaintance of my parents, I was introduced to him when I was a child,” Major Ren said. “After a few years with my Uncle, Snoke came and took me away. He was the one that introduced me to being a soldier.”

“He gave you freedom then?” Rey asked, trying to fathom the connection between the unsettling man she had met and the man before her.

“He did,” Major Ren replied. “I am grateful for all that he has done for me. He showed me what I could become.”

“Then I am happy that you had such a man in your life,” Rey said. The words seemed to taste like acid in her mouth, but she could think of no other response. The Major nodded.

“Would you mind if I asked you another question, Miss Niima?”

“If you would like,” Rey said, half listening now as thoughts about the Major’s family and Snoke swirled about in her head.

“I heard the implication from Madam Holdo, but it seems that you may have had something similar happen to you?”

Rey was all ears now. “Pardon me?”

Major Ren suddenly was wary and with hesitance he continued. “It is just an assumption, but I thought maybe we have a similar story in regards to our parents. I just wanted to ask—”

“From what I recall, Madam Holdo also told you to never bring it up,” Rey snapped. This was not a topic that she wanted to discuss with the Major in the least.

“My apologies, Miss Niima, I simply wanted—”

“Why ask me such a question?” Rey continued, feeling an uncomfortable prickle begin down her spine at the possibility of having to dredge up old memories.

Major Ren paused. He studied her—his lips pressed into a straight line.

“I could ask you the same,” he said, finally. “About you asking me about my family.”

It was Rey’s turn to pause, her breaths clouding around her. She felt caught between the open sky above and the expanse of fields surrounding her. They were close enough to Raddus House for her to see the individual columns and steps, but not close enough to escape the Major’s words.

“I . . . I simply wanted to understand you better,” Rey finally answered. It was the truth. Damn her curiosity.

“Then, Miss Niima, consider that I may feel the same about you. There is no other motivation for me asking you that question,” Major Ren said in a calm, deep voice. Rey let out a shuddering breath.

“Then I must decline to answer your question, Major,” Rey said, pulling her shawl tighter around her. “It is not something I wish to discuss as of now.”

Major Ren bowed to her awkwardly over the bag of apples. “Of course.”

It was funny, how Rey had started this conversation feeling so powerful and in control, and yet, by the end, one question had undone all that. One stupid question about her past.

She bit her lip as they made there way onto the main road leading up to the front of Raddus House. Embarrassment crept up on her as her ridiculous reaction replayed in her mind. Of course, he would feel inclined to ask a similar question. And he had been open about his family . . . but Rey was not the Major. It seemed, even after all these years, she still didn’t have the words to tell someone what had happened to her.

A low laugh caught her attention. Glancing over, Rey found the Major pressing a finger to his lips.

“What?” she asked, self conscious of what it could mean.

“I wondered when I would see that side of you again.”

“What side?” Rey demanded.

“Your fiery one,” Major Ren said. “I couldn’t escape it when I first came here. I was always doing something wrong.”

Rey huffed out a laugh in mild embarrassment.

“I tried to stop acting so childishly. I’m ashamed that I fell back into that behavior,” Rey muttered.

“Last night, you told me that showing emotion is a weakness.”

“Yes,” Rey said slowly.

“But that isn’t always the case,” Major Ren said. “At least from my experience. I spent years trying to control and hide every emotion I had. It just made things worse. I wanted you to know that while you work here, with me, it is ok to allow yourself to show anger and frustration and even sadness. I will not fault you for it. How you reacted right now, it told me something, something I respect and promise to not trespass on again.”

“Thank you,” Rey whispered, unsure what to say or how to react to such a kindness. The Major nodded his head, not needing any more words from her as they continued to Raddus House in a companionable silence.

As they neared the house, though, Rey saw a flicker of movement by the base of the front stairs. Turning her focus to the spot, she found an incredible sight. One that nearly stopped her in her tracks. With a soft gasp, Rey grabbed onto Major Ren’s arm and yanked him behind the nearest, big tree.

“What on—”

“Shh!” Rey shushed him, pulling him closer so they could both hide behind the tree. “We shouldn’t disturb them.”

“Disturb who?” Major Ren looked down at her in confusion, his hat tipped sideways on his head from Rey dragging him away. Reaching up to right the hat, he peered around the tree. With a shocked noise of his own, he turned to look at Rey with eyes as wide as saucers. Rey nodded to him and glanced past the tree for herself.

Sure enough, there were Rose and Finn, their hands entwined, leaning into each other. Finn dipped lower to whisper something in Rose’s ear. Rey hid again, looking at the Major with a wide smile.

“I can’t believe it,” the Major said, shaking his head.

“I can,” Rey whispered, pressing a hand to her lips, holding back her giggles. Unable to to stop from looking, both Rey and the Major peered around the tree once more. What they saw froze both in place.

Rose and Finn were now tangled together in an embrace—his hands woven in her hair, her fingers tugging at the collar of his jacket. Their kiss was soft and desperate at the same time. Rey felt as if she was an intruder in their moment and was pulling back behind the tree, when she felt the Major’s breath rattle through her hair.

Looking up slowly, Rey realized how close to Major Ren she was. Their shoulders were pressed to the tree trunk and she was inches from his chest, the buttons on his jacket winking in the sunlight. With a deep breath, her eyes met his. And perhaps it was the moment or what was going on beyond the tree, but the Major’s eyes looked darker than normal and his breathing seemed more uneven than before.

“Major?” Rey whispered. His arms shook a little as he leaned in closer and—

The bag of apples slipped from his hands and landed on his foot. Major Ren’s eyes widened in pain and his lips parted to let out a cry. Diving forward, Rey pressed her fingertips to the Major’s lips to catch the noise. “Major!” Her words came out in a hiss, as she dared to peek around the tree.

But Finn and Rose were no longer by the staircase, their figures moving into the entryway and closing the main door behind them. Rey let out her held breath and turned to face the Major.

“They are gone now . . .”  Her words faded out as she realized that her fingers were still pressed to his lips and that Major Ren was gazing at her with a dazed look.

“OH!” Rey exclaimed, pulling away her hand, trying not to think about how soft his lips felt. “I’m sorry, Major.”

“Quite . . .Quite alright, Miss Niima, it was a . . . well, a difficult circumstance,” Major Ren stammered out, straightening his coat.

“Yes. Quite.” Rey bent to retrieve the bag of apples, trying to shake off the sudden awkwardness. “Is your foot alright?”

“Yes. Yes, quite alright.”

Not able to handle it anymore, Rey started laughing—loudly. It caught in the wind and danced around their heads as she bent over the bag of apples, tears coming to her eyes.

“Miss Niima?” Major Ren asked, a hint of laughter in his own voice.

“Sorry. It’s just we need to stop saying quite and the apples falling on your foot and us hiding behind a tree,” Rey coughed out. “It is all so ridiculous.”

“Quite.” Major Ren said, schooling his face into something only resembling seriousness.

“Stop!” Rey laughed, starting to walk towards the house. The Major followed and as did their laughter as they finally made it into the warmth of Raddus House. It was only as the Major started up the stairs and Rey started towards the kitchen, that the laughter finally dimmed and they gazed up at each other with small smiles.

Major Ren’s faded first.

“Can I ask you one more question, Miss Niima?” His brows began to furrow.

“Yes.”

“You wanting to have a conversation with me on the way back, that wasn’t because you still feel bad about last night is it?”

Rey considered him a moment before answering

“I already told you my opinion on pitying people, Major,” Rey said. Major Ren nodded. He turned gaze up at his room.

“I suppose I’m still learning how to tell pity and kindness apart,” he said, pulling off his hat. “I just wanted to say thank you, Miss Niima, for a wonderfully distracting day.”

“Of course.” Rey curtseyed and started to continue onto the kitchens when the Major stopped her.

“Before you go, I just wanted to say that if you ever did change your mind about wanting to talk about your past, I’m here,” Major Ren said. “You aren’t alone.”

Rey slowly turned back to face him, a breath frozen in her lungs.

“Neither are you, Major,” Rey said. “If you ever want to talk more, I’m here as well.”

Rey didn’t stay to hear his reaction, instead heading for the kitchen. Listening to his footsteps on the staircase, she felt the warmth of the house burn brighter around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!  
> Until next week :D
> 
> My Tumblr: [InfiniteBlackRose's Tumblr](https://infinitelyblackrose.tumblr.com/)  
> ASG Playlist: [A Spy's Game Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5CynEFYJALjYPTcRBYPrKK)


	13. Four Days and a Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> I'm sorry for the wait on this chapter, but there is so much that happens that I wanted to get everything right. This is the longest chapter I've written so far though, so hopefully that makes up for the delay :D  
> I wanted to thank everyone again for the kudos and comments. It is always so awesome the see that people like your writing or what you are attempting to do enough to stick around. So thank you again!

_Day One_

The day following the walk from town was quiet and comfortable. Major Ren made a point of moving his work into the sitting room, even dragging a small table from the study to work on by the big, bay window. Parchment and ink flowed beyond the borders of the wood. The Major shucked off his coat and rolled up his shirt sleeves to allow him more movement. Rey had given up trying to see what he was working on because he hunched over the work secretively everytime she came around. That, however, didn’t stop her from noticing his black journal sitting there, out in the open.

Rose and Finn found more and more reasons to be around each other as they did errands and housekeeping. The only acknowledgement of what transpired the day prior was shared in covert smiles between Rey and the Major. As for confronting the couple, it didn’t happen.

Abigail started making a couple apple pies for the following day after eyeing the bag of apples greedily the previous night. Rey hadn’t the heart to turn her away from the task and now the house was filled to the brim with the smell of warm dough and apples. She couldn’t complain, even if it did make her hungrier by the minute.

And Rey? She spent the day cleaning and enjoying the ambience of the house around her. The sounds of Rose and Finn laughing, of Abigail humming while she worked and the quiet huffs and scratches of the Major’s quill made her feel more at home in Raddus House than she ever had. She took her time cleaning each room, pausing for only a second in the Major’s to look through his letters (everything was sealed already) and leaving the sitting room for last.

When she made it to the sitting room, she found the Major in even more chaos. Papers crumbled and overturned, the inkwell splattered from being refilled one too many times. He looked in disarray himself. The tie in his hair long gone, leaving it in black waves around his shoulders, and his hands and forearms were ink-stained. He looked so . . . human. It felt almost intimate seeing him so relaxed and disorderly. So much so, that Rey contemplated leaving the room, feeling suddenly as if she did not belong.

That is, until he looked up and gave her a small smile. Returning his silent greeting with a nod, Rey stepped into the room.

She took up sweeping after the Major returned to his work. A comfortable silence settled over the room as she went about her work, the afternoon sun lighting the room up in pale hues. Each time she passed by the Major, Rey hesitated. It wasn’t just to try to catch a glimpse of what he was working on though. It took the length of time of switching between sweeping to dusting and dusting to straightening for the Major to let out a loud huff and look up at her as she once again paused beside him.

“You can ask me,” he said.

“What?” Rey said, trying to play off her obvious behavior.

“The question that keeps you circling back to me,” Major Ren said, glancing to his work. “I can’t focus with you hovering by me every five minutes.”

Rey hesitated, torn between blushing and asking. It didn’t take long to decide.

“Do you miss them?” Rey asked.

Major Ren lifted his head but didn’t look over at her, understanding who she was speaking of.

“No.” His answer was short and edged on exhausted coldness. And it was a lie.

Rey could tell from how he hunched his shoulders just a little. But she didn’t point it out because she knew she would answer the exact same way. Instead, she went back to straightening the room, lifting her pink skirts out of the way while doing so.

“I think the room is clean enough,” Major Ren said, stopping her. “But if you have more questions, you are welcome to stay and keep me company. I brought in some of your botany books.”

Rey turned to see him holding out two of her favorite books. She hadn’t noticed them on the table before as they were most likely hidden by the chaos of paper. Swallowing, Rey took the books from him.

“I shouldn’t take this time for leisure, Major.”

“I already told Miss Tico and Finn to have the rest of the day to themselves and I think Miss Abigail is quite happy making her pies. That leaves you.” With that he turned back to his work. Rey hesitated for a second more before sitting at the small sofa facing him and the window.

Running her hands over the soft fabric of her books, Rey contemplated the Major. He was so focused on what was before him that she could barely read him. He seemed content and so Rey decided to be as well.

The rest of the day was spent in a quiet companionship. When Rey thought of another question, she would look up from her book and ask him. And the Major would keep his eyes on his work as he answered. They spent hours that way—her asking questions periodically with some shyness and him answering in a direct and patient way. Rey learned more about him in that day then she ever thought she would. About how alone and confused he was at his uncle’s, how his mother was equal parts cold and passionate, how his father was an aloof man who he had never been given the real chance to know, and how he turned to poetry to fill the void within him when he could. More and more she learned about his experience after being sent away. And more and more Rey came to find warmth in the knowing.

Not just the knowing of his situation, but of knowing that someone had felt the same as she had. Their experiences were not the same, but there was a familiarity in the emotions that flitted across his face as he answered her questions—the pain and distance that came from recalling a moment in time that changed you in ways that were almost unsayable. The realization that they both had endured a death that was not truly a death—that someone had _chosen_ to leave them behind—filled her to brim with an emotion she couldn’t place words too.

She listened to how he spoke changed over the course of her questions. What at first were awkward smatterings of responses slowly became eloquent and reflective answers. And when night came and all her questions had been asked, Major Ren thanked her, as if being asked and talking about his family had lifted some weight from him.

While beginning to fall asleep that night, Rey started to contemplate (not a lot, but enough) the idea of telling him about what had happened to her. Listening to him speak of his family had given her a chance to begin to thinking about how she could put her own experiences into words, even if they were awkward and clumsy at first, and about how forming them into words may lift some of that weight from her own shoulders too. Even if the thought of doing so scared her now, Rey thought that there was hope that one day she could speak about her past as Major Ren had done.

 

_Day Two_

The moment Rey walked into Raddus House, she knew something was wrong. After being gone most of the morning on errands to town and finding out that Wexley had been delayed from leaving York, the last thing Rey expected was to run into two redcoats making their way down the hall towards her. She dropped into an immediate curtsey but only one seemed to notice her presence. The tall, willowy one with reddish hair was too caught up in his rant to even bat an eye at the servant girl in his way.

“What a bloody arse! Who does he think he is? We aren’t under his command,” the man cursed, his voice high and reedy. “I don’t care if he is General Snoke’s prodigy.”

Rey drew in a sharp breath. An uncomfortable swirling beginning in her stomach.

“Yes. Yes.” The other soldier, shorter and older with a finely powdered wig, nodded in hurried assent as he stared at Rey.

“Major Ren is an impudent fool. It would be best if the rebels took care of him before his own men have to,” the tall officer continued, his tone taking on an arrogance as he made his way to move past Rey.

Feeling a red-hot fury boiling over inside, Rey couldn’t hold her tongue any longer.

“How dare you speak of the Major like that in this house,” Rey snapped. The man froze beside her. “From what I just heard he isn’t the impudent one.”

“Simcoe,” the other man whispered. A low warning rung out in his voice and his eyes flitted between the man named Simcoe and Rey. With a loud click of his tongue, Simcoe turned to stare at Rey with alert eyes. What she saw there immediately made her regret speaking so rashly. His blue eyes reminded her of Snoke’s only in their color. The rest was completely different. Where Snoke was a cold, steady predator, Simcoe’s eyes revealed an unhinged madness. He appeared to be a man that would suddenly attack out of nowhere.

“What did you just say?” he asked, quietly, cocking his head like a bird.  

“I apologize for my brashness, Sir,” Rey said, trying to smooth over what she had started, cursing herself internally. “I simply mean to say it is impolite to speak of the Major in such a disrespectful way in his home. I meant no injury.”

“Meant no injury, you say,” Simcoe said. “I daresay you did, Miss . . .”

“Rey Niima.”

“Miss Niima, what are you? A servant?”

When Rey nodded her assent, a loud, whip-like laugh filled the hall.

“And you dared to speak to me like that? Do you not know your place, girl?”

“My apologies again, Sir, I was wrong to say such a thing.” Giving her final apology, Rey moved to leave the room and the men behind, but was stopped by Simcoe stepping in front of her.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, leaning over her with a smile. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Thinking quickly and needing to get away from this unsettling man, Rey said, “Major Ren is expecting me.”

“Is that so?” Simcoe smiled.

“Simcoe, that’s enough,” the other man cut in.

“Be quiet, Hewlett,” he replied, reaching up to run a finger down the side of Rey’s face. She shivered in disgust and dropped her eyes to the ground, biting the inside of her cheek. The need to strike him rose up in her, but she fought it back. There would be devastating consequences if she struck a British Officer. So, she closed her eyes and tried to ignore the feeling of his hand running down her face to her neck. “I do like women with fire.”

If Rey wasn’t closing her eyes and focusing so hard on not lashing out, she may have noticed the distinct sound of footsteps rushing down the hall. But she didn’t realize there was a fourth presence in the hall until someone wrenched Simcoe’s hand away from her and a rough material brushed against her instead.

“What do you think you are doing?” a deeply, furious voice asked. Rey’s eyes snapped open to find the back of a bright red uniform before her. Glancing up, she saw dark hair that was unmistakably the Major’s. A low sigh of relief left her, thankful for his intervention. With a hesitant step, Rey moved to see beyond Major Ren.

“What am _I_ doing?” Simcoe asked, languidly.

“Yes,” Major Ren hissed, his hands trembling at his sides. “How dare you touch a servant and a woman of my house.”

“I was simply teaching her a lesson, Sir, on civility to those stationed above her,” Simcoe said. “She said the most dreadful things to me. If she thought it right to say that to someone else, she may find herself in the most unfortunate circumstance.”

“That is for me to take care of with my own staff. You have no right to intervene,” the Major snapped, moving closer to Simcoe. Their heights were evenly matched, but somehow Major Ren found a way to tower above him.

“But obviously, you aren’t doing a good enough job,” Simcoe said. “She is a wild thing.”

The temperature in the room dropped. Hewlett’s eyes widened at whatever look was upon Major Ren’s face—a look Rey couldn’t quite see herself—before the Major suddenly snapped. His hand darted out and fisted around Simcoe’s collar, lifting him to his toes.

“Do _not_ speak of her that way,” Major Ren whispered darkly, yanking him closer.

“Major!” Rey cried, fearing for the consequences of him engaging in violence. She reached up and gently pulled at him, but he was too far gone in his anger. With a yank of his arm, Major Ren pushed Rey off of him and out of the way. Rey froze at such a physical reaction directed at her. She had never seen an anger like this from him before.

“Not in control, Major?” Simcoe laughed in his face.  

“I’m plenty in control,” Major Ren spit, tightening his grip on Simcoe until the man was choking on the pressure.

“I believe it’s best if we take this outside,” Hewlett said while stepping closer to the two men.

Major Ren grunted his agreement and dragged Simcoe out the front door, slamming it as he left. Rey let out a woosh of a breath as Hewlett made to follow. The older man came near the door before turning back around. With a low bow, Hewlett looked up at her with apologetic eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Miss.” And then he too was gone and Rey was left in a deadly silent house.

 

_Day Three_

Rey hadn’t seen or heard from the Major since his interaction with Simcoe. The house felt empty without him in it and Rey didn’t know quite what to do.

She had replayed the whole thing over and over in her mind and the more she thought about it the odder it became. It had spiraled out of control so fast that it almost seemed like a dream. Rey couldn’t tell what had possessed her to speak out of turn like that or what had come over the Major to react so violently. None of it made sense. But Rey did know one thing.

She had to apologize.

What she had done was wrong. Even if Simcoe had spoken so rudely of the Major, it shouldn’t have been her place to intervene or call for basic decorum. And now she had made everything worse for both her and the Major.

Her temper was never something she had worried about before. Rey had always had one and it had served to keep her alive for a long time, but now . . . Now, she had to consider that she was more like the Major than she had first assumed. A rash temper was a weakness if you did not focus it correctly and she was now paying for that late realization in herself.

Focusing on rolling out dough and prepping for dinner, Rey was trying to put all of it in the back of her mind. Abigail and Rose were doing laundry in the next room over and she couldn’t help but feel relieved to have some space to herself. That relief changed, however, when she heard the front door open and shut loudly, followed by the quick clicks of boots walking down the hall.

The Major was back.

Rey yanked off her apron and brushed dough-dust from her skirts and face. Pushing aside her current tasks, she rushed from the kitchen and into the main hall. Seeing no-one there, she assumed that he had gone to his room. Lifting her skirts and half running, Rey took the stairs two at a time. She wondered if he could hear how utterly loud she was being.

By the time she got to his room, Rey was breathing hard. She froze in front of his door, her hand raised, about to knock. All the apologies that she had been rehearsing fluttered about in her head. She closed her eyes for a second, gaining her composure. Then she knocked.

A silence echoed back in response.

“Major?” Rey asked, knocking again. Desperation took over as the silence persisted. She decided to forget all sense of propriety and, with shaking hands, opened the door.

He wasn’t there. His room was dark from the curtains still being drawn. The bed was a mess of tangled sheets and his coat was flung on the floor in the corner, its rumpled form evidence of long past frustration. But Rey barely saw any of that, because lying there on his desk, wide open, was the Major’s black journal.

There were no courier numbers or ciphers or notes on rebel activity. Nothing that Rey had hoped to find in his secretive journal. The one that he always kept with him no matter what. Until now that is.

Instead, there was the Raddus House and the willow tree down the road and shattered china plates. Fine drawings in black ink. The images were exact likenesses. So much so that Rey felt that she could reach into them and touch the real things. The only thing that broke the illusion were the creases and fold lines of the parchment, as if they had been tucked into the journal haphazardly.

None of that was enough to draw her in—though she was curious about the artwork. No, it was the hint of the journal pages below the scattered paper that pulled her into his room.

With gentle hands, she moved the sketches out of the way, her head tilting as she made out the artwork below. They were in ink. Ink eyes. Open with lashes curling up like feathers. Ink hands. Folded delicately together. And they were unmistakably hers.

“Miss Niima?”

Rey let out a gasp and swung around. The sketches were knocked off the desk and scattered across the floor. The journal, too, hit the ground with a loud thump. Dropping to the floor, Rey began scrambling to pick them up.

She didn’t look up at him. She couldn’t. Not with burning embarrassment on her skin for being caught in his room. Alone. Looking through his things. She had come to apologize and had, instead, trespassed further.

Reaching for the last sketch, Rey watched from the corner of her eye as Major Ren knelt down and grabbed his journal from the floor. They both rose together, but Rey still refused to look at him.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t . . . I shouldn’t . . .” Rey paused and closed her eyes in frustration at losing her words. “I only meant to find you and apologize for yesterday. I-I didn’t mean to come into your room and snoop, I swear. I, well, I noticed the sketches and I . . .”

Her words disappeared on her again.

“Do you like them?”

Rey looked up in shock to find the Major staring at her, his journal tucked under his arm.

“What?” she stammered out, thinking of the sketches of her.

Major Ren nodded his head toward the sketches that she was holding. “Do you like my drawings?”

“Oh!” Rey said in realization. “Yes, very much. Especially this one.” She moved the sketch of the willow tree to the top of the pile.

“Of course,” Major Ren said in half-amusement.

“What?”

“Well . . . with your inclination towards trees . . .”

“I don’t just like trees,” Rey said with a huff. “I like the one of Raddus House too, for your information.”

“Hmm.” Major Ren moved to his desk and set his journal down. “The real question is which one interested you enough to bring you into my room.”

Rey was silent for a long moment. Major Ren kept a hand on his journal, his eyes trailing over its binding. She was unsure how to respond when she suspected he knew full well what had drawn her in. What answer was he looking for? It felt like too much of a game, so Rey decided not to play.

“Nothing in particular.” She handed him back the rest of his sketches. The Major’s eyes flickered up, before reaching out to take back the pile of parchment.

“I see.” He folded the sketches back up and tucked them between the pages of the journal. Leaning against his desk, the Major crossed his arms and tilted his head. With him now fully facing her and the light of the hall pooling around them both, Rey noticed how weary he looked. Purple rings traced around his eyes and his white shirt was rumpled and wind beaten.

“Are you all right?” Rey asked, her eyes scanning over his tired form.

“Not particularly.” His words were a sigh.

“Major, I wanted to apologize for what happened yesterday,” Rey said, her fingers moving to grip her skirts. “I overstepped and caused—”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” His reply was short and direct.

Rey felt her eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “But I do.”

“Simcoe caused the problem. Not you.”

“But—”

“If anyone should apologize, it's me.”

“You?” Rey asked in surprise.

“Yes, me.” Major Ren pinched the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb. “I thought I had gotten better being w- . . . being here. But the anger I felt yesterday . . . I haven’t felt that in a long time.”

“Major, your anger towards a man like Simcoe is understandable, it—”

“I shoved you!” Major Ren burst out, flinging his hands in the air. “It’s inexcusable.”

“Oh.” Rey hadn’t even thought about it. The idea that she had angered the Major and had caused a severe problem for him had consumed her thoughts. “I’m fine. I’m not upset about it. I’m not injured, Major. Not in body or mind.”

“Miss Niima—”

“Will you ever do it again in anger?” Rey cut in, folding her arms.

“No. Never,” Major Ren said. “I swear it.”

“Then it’s resolved.”

“You are taking my word for it, just like that?” Major Ren asked with wide eyes.

“Yes,” Rey said, simply. “You have yet to show me you are a man who breaks his word. Until that day, I will see this as resolved. You are forgiven, Major.”

A heavy, contemplative silence settled over the Major. His gaze dropped to the floor as he worried at his lips, a look of wonderment crossing his face. Rey wondered if anyone had shown him such a simple thing before. Forgiveness.

Finally, he looked up.

“Thank you,” he said, nodding his head.

“Then will you also allow me a chance to apologize for my behavior?” Rey asked.

A soft, surprised laugh escaped him. “To be honest, I have no idea what you are apologizing for. I didn’t hear what Simcoe said about you, but I’m sure he deserved your rebuke.”

“He didn’t say anything about me,” Rey murmured.

“Then what angered you?”

“He . . .” Rey cleared her throat, feeling odd all of a sudden. “He insulted you.”

A surprised pause filled the room.

“Me?”

“Yes. I told him not to speak of you in such a manner in this house . . . and then I may have implied that he was an impudent fool.”

A loud, crackling laugh erupted from the Major’s lips. It was the loudest he had ever laughed in front of Rey. It jolted her for a second. Then she frowned.

“It isn’t a laughing matter, Major,” Rey said. “I spoke beyond my station. I caused this whole mess and I got you in trouble.”

“You didn’t,” Major Ren said, coming back down from his laughter. “You did nothing wrong in my eyes, Miss Niima. Simcoe is the one that has done us both wrong.”

“Major—”

“I forgive you for defending me, Miss Niima. And I am grateful, though I can only wonder at why you would.”

“I . . .” Rey trailed off, really thinking about the why. Why she had gotten so upset and had risked her place so rashly. But she couldn’t understand herself in that moment. “I respect you, Major.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, his lips curled in a small smile.

“Though it seems others do not.”

“I’m not liked by a great many people, Miss Niima,” the Major said with a sardonic smile. “Half are terrified of me and the other half despise me.”

“I don’t fall in either half, Major.”

“You don’t?”

“No.”

A long silence followed, enough for Rey to come back to herself and realize that she was alone with the Major. In his room. The impropriety of it made her move towards the door.

Rey coughed.

“Well, I should get back to the kitchen and finish dinner.” She stepped toward the

doorway. A thought stopped her at the threshold of his room. The rustling of her skirts echoed off the dark walls of his room as she turned to face him. “Those sketches are what you were working on the other day.”

“Yes,” Major Ren said, his fingers trailing over the cover of his journal. He stood from leaning against his desk to face her.

“I thought you a poet, not an artist,” Rey said.

“I am an admirer of poetry, but I can’t craft it myself,” Major Ren replied. “But drawing—painting—that I can do. My father never approved of it. He didn’t understand why a man would waste his time drawing instead of going out in the world. But, I’ve always found my art to be my way of seeing the world.”

“It is beautiful,” Rey said. “It’s a gift—what you can do.”

Major Ren scratched the back of his head and gazed down at one of the loose floorboards, a look of shyness coming over him. “Thank you.”

Rey bit her lip. She knew now that it was when he was shy like that, that she wanted to tease him. And so, she decided to play the game he had started.

“Maybe one day I’ll ask you to draw me.”

She didn’t wait to see his reaction or to hear his response. Rey simply disappeared into the sunlit hallway—a smile growing on her lips.

  


_Day Four_

 

The day was unusually warm and the sun was high in the sky. The marketplace was bustling with people taking advantage of the weather. Laughter and a general sense of cheer clouded above Rey and Rose as they made their way through the mass of people, bags of vegetables in hand.

Thoughts of the Major and the sketches of her plagues her mind, but no matter how many times Rey thought of it she couldn’t find logic behind it. If she was a prettier and higher bred lady, she would think that . . . well, that the drawings meant something. But Rey being Rey (which meant being logical and factual about such matters), didn’t see any reason to draw that conclusion. So, she turned to more sound and reasonable circumstances to distract herself.

“So, you and Finn,” Rey whispered with a grin.

“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about,” Rose said, lifting her chin in the air.

“I think you do, Rose,” Rey said, squeezing past a cart and a group of people bargaining with a merchant.

“Fine,” Rose sighed, dramatically. “Please don’t tell Abigail. She’ll be cross.”

“I think Abigail already suspects,” Rey laughed.

“I’m surprised you aren’t upset,” Rose muttered, kicking loose pebbles as they walked. “I’m rather annoyed at myself as is.”

“Why would I be upset?”

“Because, Finn is on their side,” Rose whispered, looking around. “Though he has voiced opinions about not caring about the war or sides in general.”

“Finn is the Major’s valet, but is not a soldier,” Rey said. “My only worry is the pain that may come if the Major is called away and Finn must follow.”

“I know,” Rose said, looking down. “I truly don’t know what I’ll do without him now.”

“You really care about him don’t you?” Rey asked, studying Rose’s worried face.

“I . . . I think I’ve fallen in love with him,” Rose said, a blush rising to her cheeks. “He is so silly sometimes. He always makes me laugh and he listens to my rants.”

“A man who can put up with Rose’s societal rants?” Rey gasped, jokingly. “Dear lord. Never let him go.”

Rose swatted at Rey’s arm. “Stop!” A smile cut through her solenm air. Rey let out a small laugh before squinting her eyes against the sun’s glare.

“Enjoy your time with him now,” Rey said. “Don’t think of the possible troubles until they arrive.”

“I’ll try,” Rose said with a small nod and sigh.

The two women continued on through the market, weaving and jostling their way through people until they came closer to Wexley’s shop.

“Do you think Wexley has left?” Rose asked, trying to rise up on her toes to glimpse his shop above the crowd.

“I hope so,” Rey replied. “Leia and Poe are depending on it.”

In a matter of minutes, Rey and Rose broke through the crowd and made it onto the cobblestone walkway, just feet away from Wexley’s shop. What Rey saw in front of his door made her reach out and drag Rose to a stop.

“What is it?” Rose asked with a confused look.

“It’s Simcoe,” Rey whispered back. He was unmistakable with his tall, narrow frame and almost-red hair. His back was turned towards them and he appeared to be talking to someone Rey could not see.

“The awful officer from the other day?” Rose asked, her full attention now directed at the man ahead.

“Yes.”

It was then that a woman darted away from him, an angry and panicked look in her brown eyes. But Simcoe wasn’t about to let her go. He swung around and grabbed her arm, pulling her back towards him.

Without further hesitation, both Rey and Rose rushed forward, down the cobblestone path, to reach Simcoe and the woman.

“You will li—”

“I think it best if you unhand that young woman, Sir,” Rey said, cutting Simcoe off.

He jerked his attention toward her in recognition, his wild eyes taking in Rey with an annoyed mirth.

“Well, if it isn’t Major Ren’s pet,” he said.

“It is uncivilized to treat a woman in such a way,” Rey continued. “I request that you let her go.”

“You aren’t one to learn, are you?” Simcoe said before releasing the woman. She immediately came to stand beside Rose, who—despite her short stature—was glaring at Simcoe with murderous intent.

He took in all three women before him with a smirk and shake of his head, knowing he couldn’t win this time with force. Not without drawing undo attention.

“I think you have the wrong impression. Miss Wexley and I were just having a conversation. Isn’t that right?” Simcoe looked to the woman with a knowing smile.

“One that was quite finished, Sir,” the woman replied, staring at him with a direct look.

“Well then,” Simcoe said, irritation coating his voice. “I’ll see you at dinner tonight, Miss Wexley.” He gave all three of them a low, sarcastic bow before turning sharply and disappearing into the crowd of the market, the red of his uniform fading away.

Rey glanced over at the woman to find her shakily tucking her brown hair behind her ears. She glanced at Rose and Rey with a small smile.

“Thank you, Miss . . .”

“I’m Rose Tico and this is Rey Niima,” Rose said, brightly.

“We work at Raddus House, up the way,” Rey added.

“Well, I thank you both, Miss Tico and Miss Niima.” Miss Wexley nodded to them both. “I’m Anna Wexley.”

“You are Snap Wexley’s daughter,” Rey said, realizing now that she was his eldest daughter and Simcoe must be the soldier that was infatuated with her.

“I am,” she replied, brushing off her skirts.

“Does Simcoe bother you often?” Rey asked.

“He is housed with our family, but luckily he is away on business a majority of the day. I’m not often alone with him, but when I am . . .” She shook her head and looked up at the blue of the sky. “I take it you are familiar with Simcoe.”

“Unfortunately,” Rey said.

“This was my first encounter,” Rose said. “ He is a bloody bastard.”

Anna laughed, energy and lightness returning to her demeanor. “That he is.”

“Will he come back around if we leave?” Rey asked while scanning the crowd for his uniform.

“No. He knows that Hewlett—the other soldier staying with us—is coming back soon. He won’t try anything with him around,” Anna said. She let out a big sigh. “It will be nice once they move on from York.”

“Hopefully, it’s soon for you,” Rose said.

“Aye,” Anna said, starting back towards the shop. “I suppose I should get back to my sisters. Thank you both again.”

“Oh! Miss Wexley,” Rey called, stopping her from opening the door. “I was wondering if your father was in. Major Ren was hoping to place an order of rum.”

Anna turned around with a small smile and shook her head. “I’m afraid he left on business yesterday morning. He should be back tomorrow in the early hours.”

“Thank you,” Rey said, relief pooling through her. He had left York with only a minor delay. Poe could already be traveling to the dead drop now.

“You’re most welcome.” Then Anna was gone and Rey and Rose were making the trip back to Raddus House. The entire way home, Rey couldn’t stop thinking of Simcoe and Anna and how she would speak to Wexley when he was back. Even if it was a risk, she couldn’t bear leaving Anna in a house with someone like Simcoe.

 

********

 

“Miss Niima.”

“Hmm?” Rey turned from hanging up her shawl to find Abigail waiting behind her.

“Major Ren wanted to see you when you returned,” Abigail said. “He said he would be waiting in the study.”

“Oh.” Rey blinked. She wondered what such a summons could mean—her brain was already wandering to the worst possible reasons. But there was no way he could know her true purpose here . . . could he? “Thank you, Abigail. I’ll go to him directly.”

Rose gave her a curious look. With a shake of her head, Rey made her way from the coat room to the study, trying not to overthink why the Major wanted to see her . . . privately.

Rey found him in the back corner, sitting in one of the blue plush armchairs. His finger was rubbing against his bottom lip while his eyes scanned the book he was reading. Drawing closer, Rey tipped her head to read the spine. It was one of the botany books.

“I thought you weren’t a fan of science,” Rey said, startling Major Ren.

“Miss Niima.” He shut the book with a loud snap. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I suppose that is a good sign,” Rey said, moving closer. “It means that botany isn’t boring you to tears.”

“No . . . No, quite the opposite. I’m finding that plants are truly as fascinating as you say,” Major Ren said. “Please, sit.” He motioned to the chair beside him.

Rey sat in the chair, her skirts rustling quietly as she turned to face him. With a deep breath, she decided to skip pleasantries.

“Am I in trouble, Major?” Rey asked.

“Trouble?” Major Ren’s face transformed in puzzlement. “Why would you think that?”

“When the master of the house asks so specifically to speak to a servant privately that implies misconduct, Sir.”

The Major’s nose wrinkled in distaste at the mention of master and servant, annoyance sparking in his eyes.

“You know that I don’t believe in such roles between us,” he said. “In fact, I did away with them.”

“Just because _you_ decided to do away with them doesn’t mean they’ve ceased to exist,” Rey pointed out.

Major Ren waved his hands in frustration as if to erase the sentiment entirely.

“Its of no consequence anyways,” Major Ren huffed. “You aren’t in trouble.”

Rey raised her eyebrows. “Then why have you called for me, Major?”

A long pause and his gaze darting to the floor made Rey lean in closer in concern. That is until she saw how red his ears were. She leaned back in her chair then, biting her lip in amusement.

“Well? Are you going to keep me waiting?” Rey asked.

“No,” Major Ren said, looking up at her. “I . . . Well, I have something for you.”

“You do?” Rey looked at him in curiosity.

“Yes, but I don’t know if you’ll like it.” He said it so quietly that Rey almost didn’t catch the words. The Major turned and reached for something on the ground and behind his chair. When he righted himself again, a wooden box sat in his lap. He rapped his knuckles on the lid before finally handing it to her. “To make up for what I destroyed.”

Rey took the box from him gingerly and set it in her lap, her fingers running along the gold clasp. She spared the Major one more glance before releasing it. The lid opened with a creak.

She didn’t know what she expected but it wasn’t this. A box full of china. Of breathtaking china. The smooth white center of the plates held white oak trees. Life was breathed into them with brown and green and yellow paint. Their limbs spread out almost to the ends of the edges—leaves scattered and fell around the rim of each plate in their own star-like patterns.

Rey didn’t say anything. She just . . . stared. For so long, that she became aware of the Major’s slow, even breaths beside her and the sound of horses in the stables outside.

“Miss Niima?”

Still she didn’t say anything.

“Do you like them?”

His question was met with more silence.

“You don’t do you?”

Rey suddenly felt as if her own skin was too tight. With slow, precision, she closed the lid and stood and placed the box on her chair and walked away from Major Ren. She tried to disappear into the shelves of books before he saw, but the man was horribly persistent.

She had made it to the farthest shelf when his hand caught her shoulder and gently turned her toward him.

“Miss Niima? What’s wrong?” His voice was filled with concern.

Rey didn’t look at him, trying to banish the tears now streaming uncontrollably down her cheeks. She felt caught between an overwhelming gratitude and a crushing sorrow and Rey simply didn’t know what to do. So use to pushing it all away and storing it away for contemplation when the emotions had faded and aged, she didn’t know how to face them now like the Major was asking her to do. So, Rey forced honesty to the surface instead.

“I’ve . . . I’ve never been given a gift before,” she whispered, reaching up and brushing away the wetness from her face. Rey had been given clothes, food, and other necessities when she had come to the new world . . . but never anything so fine and beautiful and thoughtful as what the Major had given her. It was alien to her to be a recipient of such a thing.

“I see,” Major Ren said, his voice deep with an unspoken emotion. His wide, brown eyes traced over her for a long time before he spoke again. “Do you like them then?”

A watery laugh escaped Rey. “Of course I do, you idiot!”

“Did you . . .  Did you just call me an idiot, Miss Niima?” Major Ren asked, his wide eyes growing even wider.

“Yes, I did,” Rey said, lifting her chin. “You said there were no roles between us.”

“That I did.” Major Ren’s lips twitched. Then with hesitant movements, he lifted his other arm to show that he had brought the box with him. He handed it to her and Rey took it from him after wiping more tears away.

“How can I ever thank you?” Rey asked, not quite making eye contact with him.

“You don’t need to thank me, Miss Niima,” Major Ren said. Rey nodded and held the box tightly to her chest.

“I love them.”

“I’m glad.” A smile grew between them before Rey turned away, hoping her face didn’t look too horrible from crying.

“Rose and Abigail must be wondering where I’m at and what’s going on,” she said, stepping away from the Major, trying to regain some distance.

“Of course.” The Major took a step back as well.

Rey curtseyed and began making her way out of the study when a need started to rise up and fill her lungs. By the time she made it to the doorway, she felt as if she was drowning beneath unspoken words.

“Major?” Rey glanced back at him. He was leaning against the shelf, watching her with wonderment in his eyes.

“Yes?”

“My . . .” Rey closed her eyes. Opened them. “My parents . . . they left me when I was six years old. I haven’t seen them since.”

Major Ren pulled away from the shelves, his back ramrod straight. A distressed look came over him before it suddenly cleared like an ocean after a sudden storm.

“Thank you, Miss Niima,” he breathed. He didn’t press for more and didn’t say anything beyond that. The emotion and the understanding in his voice was enough for Rey.

She nodded to him and left the study, feeling some sluggish weight slip off of her, replaced only by the gift in her arms.

 

_Night_

 

Rey jolted awake. The moon was pooling through her window and resting on the bed with her. She took a deep breath. And then another. Slowly, the feeling of dread that had dragged her from sleep faded into an uncomfortable, but manageable, hum. Rey didn’t know if the feeling came from an unremembered dream or something else. She sat, upright, watching the way the moonlight wriggled and curled in on itself, as if unable to get quite comfortable, for what felt like hours before finally dismissing her feelings of uneasiness and slowly drifting back into the darkness of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!  
> Please feel free to leave critiques or suggestions or comments below.  
> Until next week :D
> 
> Edit: I forgot to include info about the new characters! For those unfamiliar with the t.v. show Turn (go watch it! It's awesome), Simcoe, Hewlett and Anna are all characters from that show and I've included links to their pictures/bios. I am a huge Hewlett and Anna shipper so that may make a small appearance here and . . . well who doesn't love to hate Simcoe? 
> 
> Simcoe Bio: [Simcoe](https://turn.fandom.com/wiki/John_Graves_Simcoe/In-universe#S2)  
> Hewlett Bio: [Hewlett](https://turn.fandom.com/wiki/Edmund_Hewlett#S4)  
> Anna Bio: [Anna](https://turn.fandom.com/wiki/Anna_Strong/In-universe#S3)
> 
> My Tumblr: [InfiniteBlackRose's](https://infinitelyblackrose.tumblr.com/)  
> ASG Playlist: [A Spy's Game Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5CynEFYJALjYPTcRBYPrKK)


	14. Before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> This week's chapter is a little bit plot heavy, but I promise more exciting stuff is going to happen!  
> Thanks for all your support and comments! I love reading everything you guys leave!

_ Rey _

 

Something was horribly wrong. No longer was it an uneasy feeling waking her in the night, but a tangible horror of sound. There was yelling so loud it echoed down the hall and crawled beneath her door. And then there was banging and crashing as if furniture was being overturned and thrown.

Rey jumped from bed, her bare feet chilled by the morning air. Still partly asleep—and panicked by the noise—she stumbled to her wardrobe and fumbled for her dressing gown. Throwing it on quickly, she rushed from her room, not thinking twice about the impropriety of the state of her undress. It took her a matter of seconds to pinpoint where the sound was coming from. 

The sitting room. 

As she made her way down the hall, the yells became understandable threads of angry conversation.

“You disobeyed my direct orders!” Major Ren’s voice snapped.

“I did what was nec—”

“You bastard! I told you to observe only. Now you’ve arrested my only lead. And you lost a potential contact! I have no way of tracking the network now.”

“This is truly too much, Sir.” A sneer that could only be Simcoe’s rose from the room. “I think you should be thanking me for catching a prominent man like Wexley. Who knows what the traitor could have found out next.”

Rey slid to a stop, just shy of the sitting room doorway, her heart hammering loudly in her ears. Wexley. Major Ren knew about him. And he was arrested? It couldn’t be. No. It had to be a mistake. Wexley was too careful to be caught.

“You’ve ruined everything. I should have you flogged—”

“For what? Catching a traitor and a spy? In the act of collecting intel on our numbers? No. Captain Roberts is quite happy with my decision and course of action. And I must add that he would greatly disapprove of your inaction.”

“My inaction? You bloody fool! I was going to uncover more leaks here in York. Even if I release him now, he would be too suspicious to meet with his conspirators. You’ve prevented such an outcome from occurring.”

“Release him?” Simcoe laughed. “Oh yes. That would set a precedent for the whole of York. No, when he hangs tomorrow his death will effectively kill whatever foolish rebel notions are infecting this city, as you so claim. And I do believe when word reaches General Snoke, he will be quite proud of me for stopping his favorite from making such an error in judgement. Again.”

Rey bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. Wexley was to be hanged. A spy’s death. A horrible death. Not one fit for such a kind, warm man. Not one for a father. In that moment, she felt like running head first out the front door and into town, but Major Ren throwing something stopped her.

“How dare you?” he yelled.

Pulling herself away from the wall, Rey came to stand in the doorway, hoping that her horror-stricken look was interpreted as a reaction to the current situation and not the image of the gallows that was now permanently etched into her mind.

“Major?” she called, wrapping her arms around her waist.

Simcoe and Major Ren were in a stand-off. Simcoe appeared calm, leaning against the fireplace, while the Major hovered menacingly towards him. The room was a mess. The chairs were overturned and the small tables were flung to the edges of the room. Nothing looked damaged, except a vase that lay cracked on the floor. 

“Rey.” 

Her name came out in a suddenly calm breath.

With a catch in her chest, Rey’s attention flashed back to the men, her eyes meeting the Major’s in surprise. He had never called her by her Christian name and it left her feeling . . different. She watched his face transform in realization of his slip, his gaze falling to the floor to hide his expression. Before she could say anything, Major Ren began to right the tables around him. Simcoe’s gaze flitted between her and the Major with a knowing grin. 

“Miss Niima, it is a pleasure seeing you again,” Simcoe said. She ignored him.

“What is going on?” Rey asked, turning her full attention to the Major. He glanced up with a frustrated look, his eyes darting past Rey.

“I’m sorry to disturb the staff,” he said, straightening his coat. With a quick look behind her, Rey found Abigail, Rose and Finn taking in the chaos surrounding the two British officers. “Simcoe was just about to leave.”

“Was I?” Simcoe asked in mock surprise.

“Yes,” Major Ren gritted out.

Simcoe’s lips twitched in amusement. “Well then. Good day, Major.” He gave a quick bow and then crossed the room to stand beside Rey. Feeling all of her muscles tense at him being so near, Rey fixed her eyes down at her feet. She was determined not to make eye contact in fear that she may slap the smirk off his face.

Hearing the rustle of his coat as he leaned in closer, Rey narrowed her eyes and clenched her teeth. She could feel his breath creep across the nape of her neck when he spoke.

“You know, sometimes it takes a long time for a lesson to really sink in,” Simcoe said. “But then you see the realization happen. It’s worth the wait—that moment.”

“I have no idea what you are speaking of, Sir,” Rey replied quietly, trying to hide the shake in her voice.

“Oh, I think tomorrow you will,” he said. Rey's breath was cut short. Understanding flooded her. Moments flickered through her mind binding her and the Major and Simcoe and the Wexley family together in a horribly tangled web. She knew, then, that Wexley hadn't been caught. He had been set up.

Rey was so close to looking up—to reaching out and hurting the man next to her—but Major Ren stepping between them stopped her.

“I think you are done here,” Major Ren said.

“Quite.” Simcoe smiled. With a quick pivot, he left the house, leaving behind a sharp feeling of anxiety. Major Ren and Rey didn’t move for a long moment, and the rest of the staff murmured amongst themselves about what had just happened.

“Major, I think—”

“I’m sorry, Miss Niima, but I have urgent business to attend to,” Major Ren cut Rey off, swinging around to look at Finn. “I need you to saddle my horse for me, Finn. I need to go to town immediately.”

“Right away, Sir,” Finn said, already running to the door. Major Ren left her side and ran up the stairs back to his room. As soon as the resounding thud of his door echoed through the house, Rose and Abigail moved towards Rey.

“What’s going on?” Abigail asked.

Seeing the wide eyes of the women before her, Rey felt like crying or screaming or breaking something. Instead, she said, “Wexley is to be hung as a spy.”

“What? Impossible!” Rose exclaimed, shaking her head. “He is the best of us.”

“It’s true, Rose,” Rey said, closing her eyes tight.

“God have mercy,” Abigail whispered. 

Rey’s eyes snapped open in a sudden thought. She grabbed Rose’s arm.

“Can you go to Finn’s room and get me trousers, a coat, and a hat?”

“Yes, but . . .” Rose trailed off in confusion. 

“I have to do something,” Rey said, already starting to wind her hair into a bun. “Please, Rose.”

“Of course,” she replied, with a nod. After she ran off, Rey started to make her way back to her room. She had a pistol hidden in her wardrobe. It was time that it be put to use.

“Miss Niima, please reconsider,” Abigail said, following Rey down the hall. “Whatever you are thinking of, it won't work.”

Rey didn’t hear Abigail. In fact, the words ran right off of her like rain. Logic and reason had ceased to exist for Rey in that moment. The only thing that did was the all consuming need to make everything right again.

 

_ Kylo _

 

Kylo was filled to the brim with rage. It had taken all he had to appear civil and in control while speaking to Captain Roberts about the situation. A situation that the damned fool sided with Simcoe on. Wexley was to hang and Simcoe was to be rewarded for disobedience. It was the last fact that had him slamming his way out of the barracks and riding down to the prison. 

How could he allow Simcoe to throw their ranks to the wind and disrespect a senior officer? It seemed that Captain Rogers strongly disliked Kylo, especially after their current discussion, so, he supposed that was the answer. He was hated and was being punished for their sentiments toward him. Bastards.

They had ruined his chances of catching the possible spy ring there in York and of impressing upon General Snoke his competence. And that . . . that impending disappointment from Snoke shook Kylo to his core. 

But he had a sliver of hope. He knew the rebels better than any of his fellow soldiers did. Their thoughts, opinions, what drove them, and what lengths they would go to—Kylo knew it all. It was that knowledge that gave him a possible way out. A saving grace as it were. 

Rocks and dirt were clouded into the air as Kylo drew on his reins and pulled his horse to stop before the prison. It was small and the dark wood was molding in the corners. Three soldiers stood at attention at the entrance. Kylo watched in mild amusement as their eyes widened at him dismounting and approaching them. 

“M-major Ren!” the shorter of the three exclaimed as a second, taller man moved forward to take hold of Kylo’s horse. “What brings you to York Prison?”

“I want to see Wexley. Now.” Kylo pulled off his riding gloves and took in the disgraceful looking building. After a brief bout of silence from the men before him, Kylo raised his eyebrows. “Well.”

“Captain Rogers said—”

“Does it look like I give a shite about what Captain Rogers said or did not say?” Kylo said, his voice dropping into an eerie mellowness. 

“N-no, Sir, you don’t,” the short one said. 

“Good. Then open the damn door and show me to Wexley.”

“Right away, Sir,” the man said, pushing past the other two soldiers and pulling a ring of keys off his belt loop. He shakily unlocked the door to the prison and led Kylo down the musty smelling hall of cells. They passed four more soldiers at different posts as they made it to the cell farthest in the back. The soldier pulled out a different set of keys and unlocked the metal-bar door, swinging it open.

Wexley was sitting on the ground, his arms shackled to the wall next to him. He looked up with tired eyes to take in Kylo and the soldier next to him. A small grimace flickered across his face as he scratched at his beard.

“I will find a chair for you, Major,” the short soldier said, disappearing back into the heart of the prison.

Kylo didn’t say anything. Wexley didn’t say anything. Both took the time to observe one another. Wexley didn’t seem like a prisoner about to face his end. Instead, he appeared like a cat. One that was lounging comfortably and taking in the circumstances around him with quiet indifference.

Feeling rigid in comparison to Wexley’s relaxed and calm demeanor, Kylo tried to make some of his anger dissipate. Whatever Wexley saw in him made the burly man smile. That small, insignificant reaction made Kylo’s frustration only wind tighter around him, undercutting his attempt to restore a balance to his mood. 

When the soldier came back with the chair, Kylo yanked it from his hands and slammed it on the ground. 

“Send all the men inside away and I only want two men stationed outside.”

“But, Major . . .” the soldier protested.

“Do it.” The command was clear and edged with a threat.

“Right away,” the soldier said, before scurrying away—back into the the heart of the prison.

“Of all the people, I wasn’t expecting Major Ren to visit me,” Wexley said, breaking his silence with dry humor. “Though, if I was to meet one last person before I die, I can’t really say I’m disappointed in it being you.” 

“I’m not here for small talk,” Kylo said, reaching into the inner pocket of his coat. He pulled out the piece of parchment that Simcoe had given him. “Who gave you this intel on our numbers?”

Wexley stared at the paper with a look of disdain, his head tipping back against the wall behind him. The rattling of chains filled the small cell as he rested his arms on his knees. “I don’t know.”

“You know I don’t believe that,” Kylo said, raising his eyebrows. 

Wexley closed his eyes and shook his head. “You won't believe anything I tell you, Major.”

“Oh, I can think of believing in some things,” Kylo said, crossing his arms and relaxing into his chair. That garnered a laugh from Wexley, but he still didn’t open his eyes.

“The truth is that I have no idea who passed that info to me,” Wexley said. “Maybe you should ask Simcoe who it was. He would know better than me.”

“Are you claiming innocence in all this?”

“Maybe I am.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Back to where we are started. Honestly, Major, with the gallows staring at me, I’d prefer more intriguing conversation than this back and forth.”

“I know you aren’t innocent, Wexley, you can’t get around that,” Kylo said. He watched as Wexley’s lips twitched in what could have been a smile or a grimace. “I have verified intel that you are a rebel operative. Now I just need to know who your connections are in York.”

Wexley’s eyes slowly opened to stare at Kylo in something akin to stubborn amusement. “Even if I had any, what on God’s green Earth makes you think I’d give you information like that?”

“I could guarantee your family’s safety and property after your death.” 

Kylo watched as Wexley stiffened, his eyes hardening. “Don’t bring my family into this.”

“You know that you will be hung as a traitor, Wexley. Your family will be marked and the property will be forfeit to the Crown.” Kylo leaned forward. “But if you help me, I’ll help them.”

For a long moment, Wexley studied Kylo with unreadable eyes. The silence dragged out until Kylo felt he could count the floating dust specks lingering in the space between them. The sun shined through the small slit of a window at the top of the cell, illuminating the two men.

“No.” The answer was soft but kurt.

Kylo fell back into his chair in exasperation. “You’ll let your family suffer for your mistakes? Allow them to lose everything for what? A foolish attempt at a revolution that can’t be won?”

“Who says it can’t be won, Major?” Wexley asked, dropping all pretense. “My family will come to honor my choices because they are always for them.”

A loud and sharp laugh escaped Kylo. “Rebels. All the same. Ignorant fools that choose their politics and ridiculous notions of morality above their own families. Their own children. In the end, not only will you die, Wexley, but your family will grow to resent the very memory of you.”

“Is that what you’ve done with your father?”

In one simple question, Kylo was left breathless and frozen, as if Wexley was the interrogator and he the prisoner. A cold shock ran down his spine. 

“What did you just say?”

“I know who you are Major Ren. I know who your family is—who you come from,” Wexley said. From any other man it would sound like a threat, but from Wexley it came out in a gentle understanding. He leaned towards Kylo then, dragging the chains with him. “And my family is not yours. Don’t try to cast your own perceptions onto my children. You can never take the hope of their love from me. Not in my final moments.” 

“You are connected to . . . you know . . .” Kylo couldn’t say it. Didn’t dare say it. His heart felt as if it was racing a thousand beats per minute.

“Your parents? Yes.”

Kylo shot from his chair and moved to the slitted window. His hand moved to cover his mouth as if to hold in his swirling emotions. His mother? He knew she wouldn’t give up her politics but . . . but he had hoped that she would be farther from him than she was in this moment. Even such a simple connection between Wexley and her seemed to drag him back to a place of turmoil. 

“Who else has my mother sent?” Kylo whispered.

“No-one.”

Kylo snorted. “I still don’t believe you. My mother is smart. This would be her doing. But knowing this changes nothing. It only intensifies my wanting to know.”

“Naturally.”

The warmth in his voice jolted Kylo.

“Why?” Kylo swung around to face the man. “What are you gaining from this?”

“Gaining?” Wexley looked up at him in confusion.

“Yes, why else bring up this connection?”

“Because, I can see it now. What is driving you two,” Wexley sighed. “So much pain in both of you. Now that I’ve met you, perhaps I can help. I know that Leia misses you and—”

“Oh, save your breath,” Kylo snapped, returning to his chair. “My mother has only known two loves in her life. My insipid father and her politics. There has never been room for me.”

“And you think General Snoke has room in his life for you?”

“Yes,” Kylo seethed. “Now stop presuming to know so much about me. You don’t. And neither does my mother.”

At that Wexley raised his hands. “My apologies, I only wanted to help.”

Kylo scoffed, running his hands down his face. In a matter of moments he had lost all control over this whole situation with Wexley. The anger and frustration of what Simcoe had done was now compounded with the knowledge of his Mother’s interference in York. And . . . and this man—who he had no connection with before—knowing so much about him and his situation angered him in such a way that it left him numb. Vulnerable. Being stripped so bare before a stranger was enraging to Kylo. It felt nothing like when he spoke to Miss Niima about what he had been through. That felt safe and warm . . . this felt cold and acidic.

“Help me? Why would you want to help me? You have no reason to,” Kylo muttered, leaning back in his chair.

“Death changes things,” Wexley said, curling more into himself. “Helps you see things in a new light. I’ve been a lucky man in this life. I’ve loved my wife and my children. And they’ve loved me in all my imperfectness. I have no regrets facing the gallows tomorrow, but I can see that you would if you were in my place, Major.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No. No, not for certain. But I know Leia would. And this war? This revolution with all its purpose and importance makes the time shorter and regret longer. I’ve come to care for and respect Leia. And now that I’ve met you, I can see her and Han in you.”

“I’m nothing like my parents.”

“That’s what all children say,” Wexley laughed. Kylo looked away, studying the grooves in the metal bars of the cell door as his laughter faded and a sigh took its place. “She does miss you. Very much. I just wanted you to know that before I die tomorrow. My conscience is clear. I've said my peace on behalf of Leia. What you do now, I do not care.”

“You are a far better man than most,” Kylo begrudgingly conceded, hating the sudden surge of empathy that rose up in him like the rising tide of an ocean. “It’s why you now find yourself in this situation.”

“All men find themselves facing death eventually, no matter how good or how bad they may be,” Wexley rebuffed.

“You are still a fool for not protecting your family,” Kylo said, looking away from Wexley. “If you give me any information now, I will still help.”

“And my answer is still the same.”

“Then you aren’t as a good of a man as I gave you credit for,” Kylo said.

“That may be true.”

“I could torture the truth out of you.”

“You know it will get you nowhere with me,” Wexley said, his voice void of fear. “But try if you must.”

Kylo shook his head and let out a frustrated breath before both men fell into a contemplative silence, one that led him down a winding path. He still didn’t believe that his mother actually missed him. Her previous actions and words about what had happened between them spoke otherwise. No hope given by a dying man could change that for Kylo. Even if . . . well even if a part of him did miss her. A part of him that was growing like a weed between the crack of a stone wall with each passing day.

“Well. Is that all Major?” Wexley asked, drawing Kylo’s mind back into the musty cell. 

“I think I shall keep you company for a bit longer,” Kylo said, relaxing more into his chair.  Wexley’s eyes narrowed and his head tipped back as he studied the soldier before him, a low ‘hmm’ escaping him while he reached up to rub at his chin and beard.

“Why are you staying?” 

“It is no concern of yours, Wexley,” Kylo said, dodging the question. It took only a flicker of a second for realization to dawn across the older man’s face.

“You think they will come for me,” he whispered.

“I don’t think. I know,” Kylo said with a slow-growing smile.

“You’re mistaken,” Wexley said, straightening. “They know not to risk everything for me. This is what I want and that will be respected.”

“I know you rebels better than most,” Kylo said. “You all cling to hope like moths to a flicker of a candle. They won’t abandon one of their own here.”

“Well, I’ll be sorry to see your disappointment, Major,” Wexley said, relaxing into the corner of the cell, his eyes fluttering closed. “No-one is coming for me.”

“No. Someone is,” Kylo said, looking down the hall of cells. “And I’ll be here when they do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!  
> Until next week :)
> 
> My tumblr: [InfiniteBlackRose’s Tumblr](https://infinitelyblackrose.tumblr.com/)  
> ASG Playlist: [A Spy’s Game Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5CynEFYJALjYPTcRBYPrKK)


	15. In the Moonlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! This chapter was a beast to write and I honestly don't know how I feel about it. Half of it was written while on cold medicine, so I apologize if it is a little different from the rest of my story so far lol  
> Thank you for all your comments and support! It always makes me so excited to share my future chapters with you :D

Rey lounged against the stonewall of the building behind her, the rough nooks catching on the back of her borrowed coat. Reaching up to drag her tricorn hat lower, she studied the movements of the redcoats across the street from her. Five men exited the front door of the prison—not even pausing to lock it behind them—and rejoined two soldiers standing guard outside. After some hushed murmuring amongst themselves, the first five men left the prison and headed in the direction of the barracks, leaving the two soldiers behind. Rey’s lips twitched in a smile. She hadn’t been here long and already she had been granted luck.

Turning to look down the alley behind her, Rey whistled lowly at a group of young boys hanging out towards the end of the line of buildings. A boy with curly brown hair glanced up before running down to meet her.

“You have a story ready?” Rey asked, pulling out a small bag of coins and handing them to him.

“Yes, Miss,” the boy said with a toothy grin.

“All right. Go on then,” Rey whispered. When the boy took off running towards the two guards, she felt her heart leap into her throat. This boy was the end of her forethought. Rey didn't have a plan for what to do next. All she knew was that she needed to get into the prison and get out with Wexley. And that, for now, was all the motivation she needed.

Grasping her lock picking tools in her coat pocket, she watched the little boy grab hold of the sleeve of the nearest guard.

“Please, Sir! There are three of them! They won't stop hitting my mother. Please!” The little boy pulled at the guard. The two redcoats made eye contact with each other, hesitancy holding them back from rushing off.

“Please,” the boy whined again. This time one of them nodded and, to Rey's satisfaction, they went running off behind the boy, leaving the prison unguarded.

One breath. Two breaths. Three breaths and then the men were out of sight. Rey pulled away from the wall, the rough creases of the stone hanging onto the wool of her coat, as if it was trying to keep her away from the prison.

Her footsteps echoed loudly in her ears as she crossed the road—the prison door getting bigger and bigger the closer she got. In and out. In and out. Get Wexley and get out. Simple. Rey’s breath rattled in her chest. Simple.

The dirt road beneath her gave way to a cobblestone sidewalk. She was so close now. Reaching out, Rey’s fingertips brushed the cool iron of the door handle. Her thumb on the latch. Pressing down—

An arm wrapped around Rey’s and yanked her backwards, dragging her down the street and away from the prison.

Gasping, she fought off the arm and reached for her pistol, tucked in the waistband of her trousers. Drawing back away from her assailant, she came face to face with wide, brown eyes.

“Anna?” Rey moved her hand away from the pistol and stepped back.

“Follow me,” she said, nodding her head towards a narrow alleyway, a ways down from the prison. Without waiting for a response, Anna Wexley drew into the shadows, the clicking of her shoes echoing against the red-bricked buildings.  Rey hesitated, glancing back at the prison. Her chance at rescuing Wexley was dwindling with each passing moment. She took a step away from where Anna had vanished.

“Don't you dare think about it, Niima.” Anna's voice came out low and harsh from the depths of the alleyway.

Clenching her hands into tight fists and releasing a frustrated breath, Rey followed Anna down the winding alley. After a time, the alley widened and a small garden greeted them. It was like a little hidden sanctuary. Though the coming winter had turned everything yellow and brown, Rey could still see how beautiful it would be in the spring with the stone benches and the mini fountain in the corner surrounded by green.

Anna turned to face Rey, the swish of her skirts filling the open space. “Leia told me that you were smart but impulsive. She didn't tell me how impulsive you actually are.”

“You know Leia?” Rey’s eyes widened.

“You didn't think my father was the only one in the family that supported the cause, did you?” Anna's eyebrows raised.

“You are a spy?” Rey whispered. A flicker of a smile graced Anna's face.

“I gather what I can from helping at my brother's tavern. And from the soldiers staying in our home,” she said. “You aren't alone here in York, Miss Niima.”

“So there is a network here,” Rey whispered in astonishment.

“You know of the others?”

“I heard Major Ren this morning speaking of an intelligence network, but it sounded as if he had no proof. Yet,” Rey said.

Anna sucked in a breath sharply. “That is . . . problematic.”

“Why wasn't I told?” Rey asked, thinking of what else Leia had potentially kept from her.

“You are too close to Major Ren. It was thought safer for you to know very little.”

Irritation rose up in Rey but was quickly tempered only by the sound logic of the explanation. Another feeling rose up to take its place. Confusion.

“Why did you stop me?” Rey asked, motioning in the direction of the prison. “I had an opening. We could have rescued your father together.”

“No. We wouldn't have,” Anna whispered.

“Yes! Yes, we could have,” Rey said, insistently.

“No,” Anna said again. “We would have walked into a trap.”

“A trap?”

“I was watching the prison long before you,” Anna explained. “Major Ren was in there. Waiting.”

An immediate chill swept through Rey’s body, her blood icing over. Major Ren had been there. A crystal clear image of her walking in and coming face to face with the Major entered her mind. Rey’s hand came up to cover her mouth. How would he have reacted? Rey couldn't begin to imagine it.

“He is smarter than others give him credit for,” Rey murmured.

“Unfortunately.”

“But that doesn't mean that we give up,” Rey said, dropping her hand. “We could work together. One could create a diversion and the other could—”

Anna cut Rey off with a pained noise. “Are you willing to risk your entire mission and the possibility of gaining more information for the whole of the war? And even if we did get my father out. What about after? The news will travel fast and the army will stop everyone from leaving York.”

“We could sneak into the woods behind Raddus House. Poe Dameron has snuck into York before.”

“One man sneaking in without the enemy's prior knowledge is not the same as three trying to outrun the British army through the woods in winter.”

“Well we can't just do nothing,” Rey hissed. “Your father. We can't leave him there. We can't—”

“You think I haven't thought every scenario through?” Anna's voice shook with emotion. “I spent this morning sitting outside the prison thinking. Just thinking. Running through what I could do to save my father.”

Rey drew back. Her frustration silenced. “Anna I just—”

“I realized while sitting there that my father wouldn't want us to risk it. That freedom from tyranny—the future of this revolution—mean more to him than anything.”

“But this is all a setup!” Rey exclaimed. “Simcoe. He came to me this morning. Taunted me. Wexley can't hang for a crime he didn't commit.”

“I know. I saw it happen this morning,” Anna whispered, her eyes glistening.

“You saw his arrest?”

Anna tipped her head back and stared up at the sun, as if she hoped her eyes would stop tearing up.

“Yes. I was waiting for him outside our home. I saw him coming up the road when a man stopped him in the streets, pulled him to the side and shoved something in his hands.” Anna's tone was dry in anger. “Then Simcoe and his men came out of nowhere and that man ran, leaving my father like that.”

“Then we have to make this right,” Rey said, stepping closer to Anna.

“Just because this is how he was caught, doesn't change the fact that we can't risk it.” A sad sureness rang in Anna’s voice.

Like a match igniting, Rey felt guilt flare up in her. “But I can’t let him die. Not when—”

“Anna?” A voice called from down the alleyway. Both women looked up at each other with wide eyes. Hewlett.

Anna grabbed Rey's arm and pulled her across the small square of grass to a stone corner where two buildings appeared to meet. Except they didn't meet, leaving a gap big enough for Rey. She slipped between the buildings, the cool stone pressing on either side of her. She listened as Anna moved back across the small garden and sat on the stone bench, the rustle of her skirts catching in the air. Slipping her hand behind her back, Rey pulled out her pistol.

“Edmund,” Anna said. Rey felt her whole body go rigid. They had used each other’s Christian names. Intimately. Moving slowly and quietly, Rey peered around the corner to see Hewlett sit beside Anna, their backs facing her.

“I heard about your father,” he said, turning on the bench towards her. “I’m so sorry, Anna.”

“I . . . I don’t know what to do,” Anna whispered, reaching for him and slipping a hand in his. Rey’s eyes widened.

“I understand,” Hewlett said. “But—and I’m terribly sorry for this question Anna—but did you know?”

Anna wrenched her hand from his and swung to fully face him. Even from a distance Rey could see a hot anger radiating in her eyes. “No. I had no idea. If I did know I would have stopped him, Edmund. I would have prevented him from such horrible foolishness. Now . . . Now I have to watch . . . Have to watch—” Her words were cut off by a loud sob as Anna’s strong front crumbled and she wept into her hands, her back shaking. Hewlett wasted no time in pulling Anna to him and tucking her into his side. He rested his head atop hers.

“I’m so terribly sorry, my love,” Hewlett said, lowly. “I wish that I could stop them. With all my heart.”

“I know. I know you can’t,” Anna whispered, drawing slightly away and brushing her tears away with the back of her hand. “But promise me he will be treated with some respect. Please, Edmund.”

“I promise,” he said, drawing her in to kiss her forehead. Rey pulled back and leaned against the wall behind her in shock. Anna and Hewlett. It was impossible. But that affection. The warmth in her tone with him. It wasn’t an act. It was something more.

“Come back with me. Let’s get you out of this cold,” Hewlett continued. Rey heard him stand. “Your family is missing you.”

“Please, I need more time to compose myself.”

“Of course, but I will wait down the way for you. You shouldn’t be out here unaccompanied.”

“Thank you,” Anna whispered. A quiet, unheard response was given by Hewlett and then Rey heard his footsteps cross the grass, onto the cobblestones, and down the alley until they slowly faded away into silence. Waiting for a few more moments, Rey pulled away from her hide-away and crossed the small garden slowly, carefully placing her pistol back in her waistband. With slow movements, she sat beside the inmobile Anna. Miss Wexley didn’t even look over.

“This is your meeting place.”

“Yes.”

“And your affection for him. It’s not an act.”

“No.”

“He is a British soldier.” Rey allowed her full astonishment and slight disturbance echo in her words.

Anna turned and stared at Rey, a hard look in her eyes. “And a good man.”

“You are a spy, Anna,” Rey whispered. “This will end horribly for you. What are you thinking?”

“I love him.”

The words felt like a stone hitting her in the side of the head. Rey took a deep breath.

“And what happens when he finds out?”

“He may not. And if he does. I will face it then.” Anna crossed her arms.

A breath, a small laugh, a shake of her head and Rey smiled.

“I’m not the only impulsive one.”

Anna looked down at her hands, her fingertips painted pink by the cold. “No. But there is a future—a possibility—for Hewlett and I. When this war is over and sides are no more, we can be together.”

“He is your enemy,” Rey insisted. “And on the side of the men executing your father tomorrow.”

“He is a soldier who chose the army because he felt it his duty. He's no Simcoe. Hewlett is a man who loves looking at the stars and debating science and talking to me about my day, no matter how insignificant, and . . .  and it is not something you will ever understand.”

“No.” Rey shook her head, drawing away from Anna. “It isn’t.”

Anna nodded, straightened, brushed off the front of her dress and then reached into her petticoats. “Here. I almost forgot this. I think it was meant for you.”

She reached out and took a smooth and cool object from Anna’s hand. Uncurling her fingers, Rey revealed a small silver ring.

“What is this?” Rey asked, peering closer.

“I saw my father drop it right before he was arrested,” Anna replied.

Raising it up, Rey spun it to find a round setting with Major Ren’s seal finely imprinted in the silver face. “He did it.” The knowledge came out in a stuttered breath.

“My father has done all he can for the revolution,” Anna whispered. “Now it’s my turn.”

“But—”

“We have a network in York, Miss Niima, but it is incredibly small. To lose my father is heartbreaking.” Anna’s lip quivered before Rey saw her pull it all back in. Like pieces of a jigsaw, Anna Wexley pieced all her broken parts together into a mask of resolution. “To lose even one more person would be a tragedy. No. A catastrophe. Promise me that you will let my father go.”

“I just . . .” Rey shook her head.

“Please.” Anna looked at wide brown eyes, a need burning within them. And Rey found that she could do nothing except nod her head. A quiet, relieved and pained breath escaped Anna. “Thank you, Miss Niima. Now I must go to my family.”

“Yes. Yes, of course,” Rey said. Forcing a tight smile, Anna gave her a nod in return before disappearing down the small alleyway—no doubt to rejoin Hewlett.

Rey sagged on the stone bench in exhaustion. All of the stress of her almost rescue mission and finding out about Anna and then discovering Anna and Hewlett, left her feeling as if the world had broken into large cinder blocks that were now crushing the air from her very chest. Anna’s plea for her inaction felt less like that and more like a bullet to her heart. She knew, deep down, that Miss Wexley knew her father better than anyone, but . . . but how could they walk away and go to sleep tonight when he was to swing from a noose the following day? It didn’t seem possible to Rey.

It was that disquiet that kept her there—pinned to the stone bench. Even as thoughts of Rose’s and Abigail’s worry came to her mind and even as the daylight shifted into a hazy evening and then into a dark, dim night. The temperature plummeted around her into a freezing cold that no rational person would stay out in. But still, she remained rooted to that stone bench.

The night had sucked all the color from around Rey, leaving her only with the blue hue of the moon for company. Well that wasn’t entirely true. The blue was accompanied by a throbbing feeling of loss. One that was slowly starting to wear Rey down.

The thing was that Rey had felt this type of loss before. Twice. The knowledge of losing a third father figure felt like the universe was mocking her. Yet. No. It was quite laughable. Wexley hadn’t quite been a father to her but that potential had been there. That chance now ripped from her by the redcoats. But the loss wasn’t just her own. Of course not.

It was Anna’s. And that, more than anything today, hurt Rey. Anna was going to lose her father. And maybe she felt prepared but Rey knew that no preparation could ever truly help.

Rey rose from the stone bench, her joints slightly aching from sitting so long in the cold, and brushed her fingers along the outline of her pistol. Maybe she was a fool. And maybe it was wrong to break a promise, but Rey knew it was more wrong to not to at least try to save someone else from losing a father too.

 

********

 

Two torches burning brightly in the night were added to the moon’s illumination cast upon the prison. The same two guards stood on either side of the big, wood door. Rey slunk deeper into the shadows of the buildings across the way, her eyes tracing over the prison in desperation. She began slowly scrambling a plan together, knowing now what awaited her inside now.

Her gaze hooked on a glimmer of light from inside. Inside? Rey tilted her head and moved quietly to the side to see windows lining the top of the sides of the building. Knowing how important a prisoner Wexley was, he had to be towards the back. If there were small windows for each cell then there had to be in the back as well.

Rey bit her lip. The windows were too small for anyone to fit through . . . but perhaps she could slip Wexley her lock picking tools. And if Wexley unlocked himself before she was able to get inside, well that would save time. Her attention slid back to the guards. They would be easily distracted again. But the Major wouldn’t budge if he thought he could catch another spy and . . . Oh!

She had a harebrained plan come to mind. One that neither Anna or Abigail would approve of. It was a gamble. A big gamble. Words of warning flooded Rey’s mind as she began making her way down the street from the prison. She ignored them. Whatever happened, Rey decided she couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t try.

Now far enough away from the prison and hidden between the corners of two buildings, Rey pulled out her pistol, pulled the flintlock back and raised it into the air.

“You are a bloody fool, Rey,” she murmured to herself. Then she pulled the trigger.

The blast of the gun reverberated through the air, loud enough to set her ears ringing. She quickly lowered her gun and reloaded the gunpowder and bullet faster than she ever had before. Raising it again, Rey sent out another shot. Then she got the hell out of there.

Slinking along the shadows of the buildings, she stayed out of the way as people left their houses and establishments to see who had fired a gun. In occupied York, it was not normal for gunfire to ring out like that at night. It was gathering attention just as she had hoped.

By the time she had made it back to her spot across from the prison, Major Ren and the two guards were out front looking in the direction of the gunfire. Rey couldn’t tell what they were saying, but the Major looked partly annoyed and partly thrilled. He turned his back away from the right side of the prison to order his men to investigate, leaving Rey with enough time and cover to mesh into a group of people gathering in the street and then slip down the narrow alley between the prison and livery.

She allowed herself to kick up rocks, sinking her boots into the dirt to leave footprints. When she turned the back corner of the prison, Rey came face to face with the forest brushing up against the line of buildings. Perfect. She looked up at the back of the prison wall to find three small windows. It took no time at all to figure out that Wexley was in the middle cell. Peering in she found him lounging in the corner, his head rolled back against the wall.

Rey grabbed her lock picking tools from her pocket and whistled a little too loudly. Wexley’s attention jerked to the window, his eyes widening at seeing her peering back at him. He rose from the ground and shook his head.

“What in the Devil’s name do you think you are doing?” he hissed. “Get out of here!”

“I hope you are a good lockpick, Wexley,” Rey smiled, reaching up to fit her tools between the bars of the window. With purposeful clumsiness, she wacked her tools against the metal bars resulting in a loud crack that echoed into the night air. “You’ll know what to do.”

“Stop making so much blasted noise!” Wexley said. “Go! The Major is here. He will have heard you.”

Rey dropped the tools into his cell and pressed a finger to her lips. Wexley immediately went silent. She crouched down away from the window and attempted to hear beyond her heart pounding loudly in her ears. She moved farther back along the wall, dragging her breathing into a quiet, slow pace, as she listened.

A gust of wind. The faint sound of voices from the street. The rattling of trees beside her. And . . . There! Rey heard the faint sound of a shoe stepping on gravel and the light click of a flintlock being dragged back on a pistol. The Major was in the alley, no doubt following her foot trail. A thrill rippled through Rey as a rueful smile grew on her lips. The Major was smart. He would know a gun going off was a decoy and would wait vigilantly for a sign of a rescue. One that Rey had conveniently given him. But the Major was as impulsive as her. With a target before him, he would act. Now she just had to believe in how good of runner she was.

Rey pulled away from the wall of the prison at breakneck speed, her feet pounding loudly beneath her. She crashed into the vegetation of the woods, pushing tree limbs out of her way. Hearing a loud voice swearing and the running footfalls behind her, Rey picked up speed.

“Stop in the name of the King!” Major Ren’s voice chased her through the trees. Now a few feet into the woods, Rey pivoted, running parallel to the buildings instead. She kept the line of roofs in the corner of her eye to make sure she was heading in the right direction—towards the market. She leaped and ducked, avoiding fallen trees and low hanging branches, her hand reaching up to grab her hat and throw it deep into the woods. As she had hoped the vegetation had slowed the Major down, but his footfalls still sounded too close behind her.

She zig-zagged through the woods, trying to keep ahead but he only seemed to be gaining on her. Sucking in the chilled night air, Rey pushed herself to go faster and faster, her lungs already beginning to burn. Weaving between two big oaks, she dove over a large fallen tree, her breath hitching as her foot caught a broken limb. But she made it over—the tumble to the ground only slowing her down for a second. Rey glanced back at the rooftops peeking through the tree line. She had just passed Old Roger’s house. Almost to the market and then she would lose him in the endless, maze-like alleyways.

Rey had just dodged a big pine bush and was passing a log on the ground when she heard the familiar sound of a gun going off. Her eyes widened at the low whizzing of the bullet just before it hit the side of the log just at her feet. The crack of the impact was explosive as splintered food flew through the air. The Major was shooting at her. But it had been a low shot, that could only mean that he was trying to incapacitate her.

For the first time since initiating the chase, Rey glanced back and nearly choked on the spike of anxiety that filled her. The Major was closer than she had thought. The full-moon glow backlit him, the red of his uniform looking unnaturally bright like a discolored star. There was still enough distance between them for the shadows of the night to cloak his face from her. He looked like a vengeful angel—all ethereal colors and possessed determination directed at her. It was unsettling. Almost as unsettling as him reaching for his gun and starting to reload again.

Rey focused ahead and pushed her body farther than she ever had before. More than ever she hoped that Wexley was using this time wisely and had already escaped the prison. Her muscles in her legs burned as if on fire and she could feel a dry ache beginning in the back of her throat. Taking in several deep breaths, she tried to stop the cramping that was beginning to tighten her sides into knots. She didn’t know how long she would last or if she could make it to the shed near the blacksmiths in time. Peering sideways, she saw the space between rooftops widen and then she saw a thatch roof. Rey had made it to the market.

Veering towards the line of buildings, Rey burst through the treeline—the sound of limbs breaking and twigs cracking beneath her feet jolted her. She dove down a narrow alleyway between buildings, fighting to reorient herself to the new terrain. The sounds of Major crashing through the trees made her begin to make frantic choices of where to go—down one alleyway, taking a sharp corner left and then right and diving down another alley and another and another—trying to lose him. But she couldn’t. The Major stuck to her like glue—his footsteps a constant echo behind her.

Finally, she passed a building made of red brick. She was close to the blacksmith’s shed. Close. And then. And then the clouds covered the moon, stripping Rey of her vision. With a gasp, Rey made the sudden decision to turn a corner, thinking perhaps this was where she needed to go, when her leg caught on a large, wooden object and she crashed to the ground. Her foot stayed stuck, in what she could only assume was an abandoned cart, as the rest of her body twisted to try to prevent her face from hitting the ground. Something gave way in her ankle causing Rey to open her mouth in a silent cry of pain.

Her hands smacked against the cobblestone path loudly. With a low whimper, Rey dragged her body up and reached for her foot. It was pinned in what felt like the wheel of the cart. Biting her lip, she yanked her foot free, the pain zinging up her leg. Scrambling up, Rey made it a few steps before her weight collapsed back to the ground—the pain too excruciating for her to stand just yet. Thinking quickly, Rey scooted herself behind the cart, her head knocking into the building behind her—whatever building that was.

She tried to silence her breathing and her racing heart. But even beyond the cacophony of her body’s exhaustion, Rey could hear the too-close footfalls of the Major. Peering around the hazy shape of the cart, she could make out the gray outlines of the buildings forming the alleyway and the corner that Major Ren was about to appear from. No matter what he would find her and she would be caught. There were no ifs about it. Rey was trapped. She had made a mistake. She had made a mistake and Anna had been right. Rey closed her eyes in frustration. It had been a horrible risk. A foolish endeavor. The terrible realization came crashing down upon her. She had destroyed any chance of their being a spy placed so close to the Major. When he discovered her he would never trust another servant placed near him. She imagined watching the future of intelligence in York crumble around her. Unless . . .

Rey yanked her pistol from her waistband and fumbled for more gunpowder and ammo in her coat. With shaking hands, she reloaded her gun, pulled the flintlock back, leaned against the side of the cart and aimed at the corner of the alley. Unless she shot him.

The gun wavered in her hand. The moon stayed cocooned in the clouds. No light.

Rey’s finger twitched on the trigger, listening to his footsteps grow _closer_ . Without light she didn’t know if her aim would be right. _And closer._ What if she didn’t simply incapacitate him but she killed him? _And closer._ Could she kill him? _And closer._ Rey’s hand shook, the pistol wobbling, as she thought about potentially ending the Major’s life. _And closer._ What was funny was that the first thought wasn’t about how his death would destroy her mission and the potential outcome of the revolution. _And closer._ No. It was about him handing her those china plates. The ones with the white oaks painted on them. His gift. _And closer._ And the second thought was of him telling her that he would be there for her when she wanted to talk about her family. _And closer._ Rey shook her head. No. He was the enemy. The enemy. She tightened her hand on her gun. She didn’t have a choice. _And closer._ But then Anna’s words about Hewlett came back to her. _He’s a good man._ He loves drawing. And horseback riding. And he listens to her talk. Even the insignificant things. And . . .

And Rey dropped the gun with a low cry of anger and frustration. So this was to be her end? She rested her head against the cold wood of the wagon that had so ruined her. Her body sagged to the ground in defeat.

Suddenly a hand tightened around her arm. Rey swung around, raising her gun to her assailant.

“Come with me,” a man whispered. “I’ll hide you.” Rey lowered her gun. Her savior helped raise her to her feet, pulling her weight onto his side and half dragging her into the building that she had been hiding beside.

Blinking away the flare of light, Rey stared at the shop that she had been dragged into. An anvil. A fire. Horseshoes lining the wall. It was the blacksmith’s. Rey let out a harsh laugh. She had made it here. She had been so close. Turning, she looked up into the kind amber eyes of Jarek, the blacksmith.

He dragged her to the corner of his shop and lifted a hidden door, on the ground, covered in hay and dirt, to reveal a secret hole just big enough for Rey. With hurried and gentle hands, Jarek tucked her into the cubby and shut the door, banishing her into darkness once more.

She listened as he began hammering at his anvil, the loud ringing masking her attempts to slow her breath and stop her low groans of discomfort. It was only a matter of seconds before she heard the sound of hurried footsteps enter the shop.

“Blacksmith.” Major Ren’s breathless voice filtered through the cracks of the hidden door. “Have you seen a man run this way or heard anything suspicious.”

“No,” Jarek replied. “I have not.”

A long pause stretched between the two men.

“If you distrust me, Sir, you may check my shop for anything suspicious,” Jarek continued.

“No. That is all right,” the Major said, annoyance flickering in his words. “I’ll be on my way.”

“Good night, Sir.”

Rey held her breath as the Major’s footsteps faded away into the night. After a long moment of waiting, Jarek opened the door and lifted Rey out. Once she was stable on her feet, the blacksmith handed her his coat and a hat. She took them, shrugging out of Finn’s and giving them to Jarek as a trade. Jarek’s eyes scanned her new outfit twice before he nodded and helped her outside to the side of his shop where his horse stood, tied to a pole.

“Take him and go back home.” Jarek quickly helped her up onto the horse and then turned to start heading inside.

“Wait!” Rey said. “You are part of the network?”

“No. I’m retired from all that,” he replied, not looking back at her. Rey tilted her head, her hands tightening on the reins.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“You crashed quite loudly into my cart,” Jarek said, a quiet amusement in his voice. “I could not leave you.”

Then Jarek disappeared back into the fiery glow of his shop.

With a nudge, Rey guided Jarek’s horse away from the blacksmith’s and back onto the main road of the market. Now free from the Major, Rey began to wonder about Wexley. Had he gotten free? Had he escaped with the time she had bought him? Had it all been a success? It had to be. There was no other option for Rey . . . until she did make it onto the main road and saw a mass of people milling around, torches high in the air.

Words flitted to her ears. _Prisoner. Escape. Traitor. Wexley. Horrible. Tragic._ Rey felt her blood freeze in her veins as she prompted the horse back down the main road, towards the direction of the prison.

Her horse parted the outer rings of people to find the mob to be surrounding two redcoats, including Major Ren, dragging a man from a building. No. Not just any building. It was Wexley’s shop and the man being dragged away in shackles _was_ Wexley. He lifted his head, his brown eyes glimmering in the torchlight. Anna and her family stood in front of the shop, looks of grief and remorse filtering across their faces.

Rey’s grip on the reins tightened as she leaned forward in the saddle in horror. It couldn’t be. Not after everything. No. Why would Wexley go back? It didn’t make sense. None of this made sense. She resisted the urge to kick the horse into a run and try once again to save him. Instead, she moved her horse closer, leaning into the warm, illumination of the torches near her.

Wexley’s eyes scanned the crowd before him as if to take in his neighbors once last time, before his gaze finally fell upon Rey. She tipped her hat back just a bit to allow him a clearer view of her. His eyes widened a small fraction before a smile graced his face. Rey shook her head. Wexley’s lips twitched before they moved. To anyone else it would simply look like mumbling, but Rey knew it was a message. For her.

_It’s okay._

Wexley smiled again. Rey shook her head harder and then yanked on the horses reins, pulling away from the scene. With a harsh kick, she set the horse running towards Raddus House, the wind ringing in her ears as she fought the flood of emotions rising up in her.

She had failed. In trying so hard to make everything right, everything had, instead, fallen into being wrong once more. Wrong. Out of control. Horrible. Her fault. All of it. After everything she still didn’t have the power to fix such a fate from occurring.

Tears began to creep into the corners of her eyes, but Rey gritted her teeth and forced her horse to go faster. She would not cry. Even if she had been so close. So damn close to getting him to freedom. She wasn’t allowed to cry. Even as the events of the night began to press down on her . . . the chase. Nearly shooting the Major. Choosing not to. Wexley being caught. All of it felt like too much for her to contain anymore.

When she got back to Raddus House, Rey dismounted and smacked the horse’s flank to send him back home. With a clenched jaw and closed fists, she forced herself to hobble to the house, up the stairs, and into her room, ignoring the worried looks of Rose and Abigail as they ran out to greet her.

She shut her door and stripped from her disguise until she was stark naked. Her skin raised in gooseflesh as she fell into her bed and pulled the quilt up and over her head, hiding away the moon that had decided to come out of hiding and curl up beside her.

Tomorrow, Wexley would die. She hadn’t been able to stop it. She was a failure. And now she felt numb as sleep reached up and took her in its arms, pulling her into the sweet bliss of oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!  
> Until next week :D
> 
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	16. A Noose of One's Own Making

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> I'm back with my first real angsty chapter :)  
> Also do mind the change in tags! There is a death in this chapter but I tried to make it not graphic.  
> Thank you for all your support and kind words!! I look forward to them every week

The morning sun cast a pink hue over the noose hanging from a low tree branch. Rey slowly moved forward through the crowd of people circling the tree on the edge of town, noticing familiar faces that had come to witness Wexley’s execution. A light hum of conversation was moving through the congregation in ebbing waves. Listening, she heard some loyalists reveling in a rebel being caught. But, for the majority of people there, the mood and words passed between neighbors were solemn. Wexley had been loved (traitor or not) by the people of York. Rey pulled her shawl tighter around her. How could someone  _ not _ care for Wexley? Knowing him only a handful of days had not changed Rey’s sentiment towards him. And now, she would never get to know him beyond those too few moments. 

The arm looped around her own gently pulled her to a stop, just shy of the front of the crowd. Rey looked over to find Rose huddled against her.

“We don’t need to be in front, Miss Niima,” she whispered. “It is too morbid an affair to be so close.”

Rey wanted to disagree with Rose and pull her to the front, but she didn’t. And that was because Major Ren was there, standing straight and serious beside the noose, his eyes filled with cold exhaustion at the situation he found himself in. The red of his uniform and dark of his hair clashed with the pale colors of the sky. Letting out a rattled breath, Rey pushed away the memory of waiting for him to find her in the dark, moonless alleyway.

Another British Officer of high rank stood beside him. He was fat with gray eyes that seemed to continuously dart to the Major with a mix of disdain and unease. Rey supposed he was the Captain over Simcoe’s regiment and the one that Wexley had asked for help removing the officers from his residence. Rey felt her face contort into a look of disgust. He looked weak-willed. The Captain reached up to fix his finely powdered wig and then wiped at his nose, leaving a trail of fine dust on his upper lip. And he was a fool. It was no wonder Simcoe was able to get away with so much. And why Wexley had been ignored.

“Miss Niima, look,” Rose whispered, drawing Rey’s attention away from the officers. Looking in the direction Rose had pointed, she spotted Anna Wexley and her family to their left side and near the front. Madam Wexley was holding her two youngest daughters to the front of her skirts, her hands running up and down their arms in what could be comfort or anxiety. Anna stood just to her side, her gaze trained ahead on Major Ren and the Captain. As if sensing Rey’s gaze, Anna turned to face her.

A look of relief and frustration came into her brown eyes. Anna leaned over to her mother, whispered a few words, and then made her way through the crowd to Rey. Anxiousness tied her belly into knots. She didn’t know what to say to Anna.

“Miss Niima,” Anna murmured, coming to stand before her and Rose. “Miss Tico.”

“Miss Wexley,” Rey said, attempting a small curtsey that wobbled beneath the throbbing ache in her ankle. Rose held tightly to Rey and simply nodded at Anna. Noticing the attempt at balance, Anna’s eyebrows scrunched together.

“You are injured.”

“Only a little,” Rey said, avoiding eye contact. “I was clumsy while coming down the stairs yesterday.”

“I see.” Anna moved to stand beside Rey and face the front of the crowd in an attempt to alleviate the looks given by the men and women around them. “You didn’t keep your promise, Miss Niima.”

“No, I did not,” Rey whispered, keeping her eyes straight ahead. “But I do swear that such a thing will not happen again.”

“No?” Anna sounded skeptical.

The sounds of Major Ren’s footsteps coming toward her and the feeling of failure came to Rey’s mind in vivid clarity. “No.”

“Hmm.” Anna glanced at Rey from the corner of her eye. “I am relieved to hear such news, Miss Niima, but I must say that I am grateful to you.”

Rey turned her gaze to Anna for the first time since she had approached her and Rose. “Grateful?”

“You are reckless and impulsive,” Anna said, keeping her voice low enough for only Rey to hear. “But you gave me something that I will never forget.” 

“What was that?”

Anna turned to face Rey, her look of relief and frustration melting into one of warm gratitude. She took one of Rey’s hands in her own, a sorrowful happiness tugging at her lips.

“A chance to say goodbye.”

The cold slither of guilt wormed its way under Rey’s skin. She did not deserve Anna Wexley’s thanks.

“Miss Wexley, I wanted to tell you the other day in the garden, but this is all—”

“I’m sorry to cut you off, Miss Niima. There is so much I need to speak to you about, but we are being watched,” Anna said, her words coming out quickly. Her eyes flickered to the side. “I shouldn't have drawn attention, but I wanted to thank you before . . .”

The presence of the noose hung heavy between them. Rey squoze Anna’s hand in silent understanding. With that Anna nodded and detached herself from Rey to rejoin her family. 

Hesitantly, Rey glanced in the direction that Anna’s eyes had flickered to, to find Major Ren staring intently at her. His dark eyes were steady as if he was trying to read her. She was immediately reminded of the possessed determination directed at her when he chased her through the woods. Biting the inside of her cheek and setting her jaw, Rey met his stare with a quiet defiance, even as a darker guilt began to roil in her stomach.

A hint of shock danced across his features at whatever he saw in her, his attention darting between her and Anna like he was looking for an invisible thread that connected them. After a time, his gaze settled back on Rey and his expression softened into something that looked almost like concern. He worried at his lips.

Anger and sadness and guilt all tangled together in a noose of their own, dragging Rey’s eyes away from the Major and to the lightening sky beyond him. She didn’t want to look at him, let alone think about him. Especially not now.

“Miss Niima,” Rose started, taking notice of Rey’s stiffening muscles and the silent exchange that had passed between her and Major Ren. “What is—”

The loud, harsh rhythm of drums cut her off. As if the crowd of people was one being, everyone turned to look down the small winding path to find Wexley—hands bound before him—being led up the hill by Simcoe, Hewlett, and a few other redcoats with drums. 

Wexley lifted his chin higher as the town stared at him, a smile still gracing his face even as he walked towards his own execution. Rey tightened her grip on Rose as the group of men neared the noose. 

Simcoe’s eyes scanned the crowd until they found Anna. A cat-like glint reflected in them at her presence. With a smug twist on his lips, he continued his appraisal of the gathering until he made eye contact with Rey. She glared at him, wishing with all her might that she could incinerate him with a look. His smug grin grew into a toothy satisfaction. Rey broke eye contact and focused on Wexley instead, who was now standing just before Major Ren and the Captain.

The drumming suddenly cut off, leaving a still quiet over the whole crowd as they took in Wexley gazing up at the rope hanging from the tree. The Captain cleared his throat loudly and motioned for two of his men to help Wexley up onto the big barrel placed below the noose. After a wobble and a near accident with Wexley nearly losing his balance and crushing one of the redcoats, Snap let out a ruckus laugh.

“I say if they can’t get me on a barrel proper than they shouldn’t be allowed to kill me!” Snap Wexley boomed, causing a low rumble of laughter through the gathered witnesses. Rey felt her laugh catch in her throat. Wexley was determined to smile until the end but it didn’t give her much comfort. 

“The prisoner will be quiet,” the Captain said, a bored lilt to his voice. With some more jostling, Wexley finally was in place and the two redcoats moved to reach for the noose. Wexley shook his head.

“I’d like to put it on, if you would allow me,” Wexley said, taking away their chance to disagree by already reaching up with tied hands and pulling the heavy rope around his neck. The redcoats tightened it and then stepped back. Major Ren moved forward to take their place with an annoyed glance at the Captain. He reached into his uniform and removed a roll of parchment. The crinkling of the paper filled Rey’s ears.

“The accused, Snap Wexley, having been found guilty of espionage against the Crown shall hereby be executed as a spy. If he has any last words, let him speak them now.” Major Ren’s voice was cold and clinical, his eyes never once straying to Wexley. After a brief, heavy silence, Wexley slowly took in the crowd before him with a small smile. 

“I would like those here to bear witness that I meet my fate today as a brave and honorable man. And I hope, that no matter our sides today, we will all find peace one day in this country.” Wexley’s eyes flickered to the Major with a look Rey didn’t understand.

“Please let it be quick. Please let it be quick,” Rey murmured to herself, suddenly wishing she hadn’t come. She no longer knew if she could handle watching her friend be executed.

Rey saw the words  _ I love you _ form on Wexley’s lips, his gaze filled only with warmth as he took in his family for the last time. Major Ren stepped forward and knocked the barrel out from beneath him.

A loud crack echoed across the crowd.

And then Wexley was gone. 

Rey’s stomach dropped.

Low crying rose from Anna’s family and the sounds of hushed shock in the crowd swirled around Rey. But she didn’t hear any of it. She was too focused on Major Ren and his expression. 

He didn’t have any. The Major’s face was devoid of any emotion except that of disinterest as if he had just brushed dust off his uniform instead of ripping the life out from underneath a man. For the first time since Wexley had walked to his own end, Major Ren looked over and took in the body. When he turned back to face the crowd, Rey saw no change. None. Just a simple void. Unfeeling. Uncaring. Unmoved. For a brief and horrible moment, Rey saw a different body hanging from that tree limb—the major’s eyes empty as he took in the sway of the soulless body.

Nausea rose up like a tidal wave in Rey’s belly. A low hum of fright and disgust ran through her head, making her sway on her feet with lightheadedness. Rose’s grip tightened around her as Rey nearly toppled to the ground.

“Miss Niima!” she cried, dragging Rey back to her side. “Are you all right? You look deathly pale.”

“I feel incredibly ill, Rose,” Rey mumbled, rubbing at her eyes and curling into herself in hopes of stopping the rising need to dry heave. “I . . . I shouldn’t have come. I have no right to be here.”

“What?” Rose asked, a startled quality to her voice. “What do you mean?”

Rose never received an answer as a dark, tall shadow passed across them. Rey looked up, trying to push aside the waves of unease. What she saw did nothing to help her.

Major Ren was staring at her with clear brown eyes and an open look. The void no longer existed in his expression. Now the lines of his face and the curve of his brows and lips showed, without a doubt, an intense and direct anxiety. For her. Rey looked back to her feet and squinched her eyes closed.

“Are you well, Miss Niima?” His voice was low and kind. It drowned out the sudden gossipy chatter now surrounding her—the people near them turning to look at a British soldier rushing to the aid of a servant girl. 

“I suppose it is just the shock of the moment,” Rey replied, breathing deeply through her nose, her bearings beginning to come back to her. 

“If I may, I will escort you back to Raddus House,” he said, his hand reaching for her in a breach of propriety. Rey pulled away—still unable to look at him directly.

“No. That is not needed,” Rey said, allowing a coldness to sharpen her words. Major Ren dropped his hand. 

“It would be no trouble,” Major Ren said, uncertainty filling his voice. “Are you sure?”

“Quite,” Rey half-snapped, drawing her and Rose away. She heard a sharp intake of breath; one that finally drew her attention back to his face. A pained look now rested there. 

“Then I trust Miss Tico to aid you in arriving there safely. I’ll be behind you shortly.” His words were strained.

“Yes, Sir,” Rose said, helping Rey into a curtsey. Then they moved away, turning their backs to the Major, the crowd, and poor Wexley. Rey closed her eyes, glad of the reprieve from the eyes on her and having to see her friend left in such a manner. 

They slowly made their way down the path. Rose didn’t say a word and, instead, directed all her attention to keeping Rey stable as they wove their way around puddles and kicked up rocks. Thankful for the silence, Rey began to slowly peel apart each emotion that she had felt and shove them into the dark corners of her mind. All of it was useless: guilt, anger, sadness, disgust.  Hindrances. 

With them out of the way, Rey took her final image of Wexley hanging from that god-awful rope and ripped it into little pieces until she no longer recognized the memory. She scattered them in the ever changing winds of her thoughts, refusing to remember him that way.

Empty brown eyes replaced her fractured memory, stopping her short. That was one image she would not destroy. As a reminder. Rey turned to Rose with new determination, her hand latching onto the ring with the Major’s seal, hidden in the depths of her skirt pockets.

“Rose, there is something I need your help with.”

  
  


********

 

The gunshot cracked through the late-afternoon air, the butt of the rifle kicking back into Rey’s shoulder. A shattering sound echoed as the bullet whizzed through one of the glass bottles lined up on the fallen tree behind Raddus House. She felt a grin spread across her face as she lowered the rifle to reload.

There was something incredibly satisfying in shooting and after the morning’s events, Rey needed that satisfaction more than ever. Raising the rifle back up, she closed an eye and aimed at the second bottle. A loud crack of branches sounded behind her causing her to swing around and point her gun at the intruder.

Major Ren’s eyes widened and his hands rose in the air—as much as they could as he was cradling a rifle of his own in the nook of his elbow. Rey let out a low breath and slowly lowered her rifle, the wind catching around her skirts and tangling them in her legs. With a hesitant look, the Major gave a small smile and moved to stand next to her.

“I heard from Miss Tico that you were here, although all the noise should have given it away,” he said, a quiver of uncertainty lining his attempt at lightheartedness. “May I join you?”

“If you want,” Rey replied, turning back to the line of glass bottles and cracked porcelain jars that were of no use to Amilyn anymore. She raised the rifle and settled it against her shoulder once more, her head tipping to track the wind around her. With a single low breath, Rey pulled the trigger and shattered the second glass bottle. 

“You are an excellent shot,” Major Ren said, a smile in his voice. Rey didn’t look over.

“I’m sure you aren’t use to a woman shooting,” she said with bitterness.

“My mother use to go shooting with my father,” he said, ignoring the bite in her words. “She was a fine shooter.” A soft sadness filled the air between them. Rey turned to find the Major staring up at the cloudless sky.

“Aren’t you going to take your shot?” Rey asked, hating how his words pulled at her. 

“Right,” Major Ren said. He raised his rifle and settled it into place. Tipping his head how Rey had, he sighted one of the porcelain jugs. She watched as his whole body relaxed into the gun and his breathing slowed. With the afternoon light framing him and arcing across the fine lines of his stance, Rey saw not just the man she had grown accustomed to living with, but a soldier. Her breathing quickened as he straightened his head and stilled. He was alluring with the light catching in his black hair, revealing a hidden auburn hue. Rey tightened her grip on her rifle in frustration. And he was a predator. A killer. Major Ren pulled the trigger, sending waves of reverberation through his body as the bullet hit the heart of the jug. A redcoat. 

He turned to look at her—a bright enjoyment in his eyes. Rey dropped her gaze to her rifle and began reloading as quickly as possible. With a harsh bite to her lip, she raised her rifle and aimed again. 

“Wait.” A hand came out and grabbed the barrel of her rifle, lowering it to the ground. Rey glared up at the Major for interrupting her. He raised his hands in an apologetic gesture.

“The truth is that I didn’t just join you to shoot,” Major Ren said, his nervous shyness returning to his features. “I wanted to speak with you.”

Rey raised her rifle once more. “Then by all means, speak.” 

“Miss Niima.” His voice was now imploring. Releasing a low huff, Rey lowered her gun and closed her eyes in frustration. This wasn’t how this was suppose to go and the more time she spent around the Major the more the emotions that she had banished to the corners of her mind came crawling back out. It was infuriating.

“What do you wish to speak to me about?” Rey asked. She listened as the Major released a sigh of relief.

“I wanted to make sure you are all right. You seem upset,” the Major said. 

“I’m quite well.”

“I don’t think that is true.” Major Ren stepped closer to her. “I told you that you could open up to me. If something is wrong, I hope that you will give me the chance to help.”

Rey let out a low, sarcastic laugh. A frown pulled at the Major’s lips.

“You can’t help me, Major,” she said, yanking up her rifle to aim and shoot. The bullet went wide, lodging in a tree beyond the jug she had missed. 

“At least let me try.” His voice was soft and aching. That gentleness broke Rey’s fragile self control.

“Can you take back killing a good man?” she demanded, turning to face him directly. A wave of shock crossed his face. 

“You are speaking of Wexley,” he said.

“Who else?” Rey asked. “Although I’m sure he was only one of many.” 

A dark, flicker of pain lit in his eyes and contorted his face. Rey felt her own eyes widen at such cruel words escaping her. Even if they were true. Major Ren’s face cleared and a cold mask fell into place. She knew, now, that she was walking a fine line.

“Wexley was a traitor and a spy, Miss Niima,” he said, slowly. “I was doing my duty to the Crown as an officer.”

“And if he was innocent?” she continued, all rationality gone from her.

“He wasn’t innocent.”

“What because Simcoe gave you false proof?” she spat. “That man set everything up to hurt us all. And you went along with it!”

“How do you know such a thing?” The Major sounded skeptical.

“Simcoe gloated to me about it yesterday morning! He made sure of Wexley’s death,” Rey said. 

“I don’t doubt you, but even if Simcoe did set everything up, I have it on good authority that Wexley was still guilty.”

“There was no trial. So what proof do you have?” Rey demanded. The Major was silent for a moment, a frustrated look in his eyes, as if he wished he had more to say.

“I had enough.” 

Rey leaned heavily on her rifle. So the Major had learned nothing new from Wexley about the network except that they simply existed. That was a relief at least.

“I wonder if that would also be enough for his family,” Rey said, simmering anger running through her veins.

“Why this sudden defence of a man you didn’t even know?” Major Ren demanded, an answering fire lighting in his voice. “Or . . .” A questioning look overcame him. 

“Or what?”

“What is your connection to Anna Wexley, Miss Niima?”

Rey froze and took in the Major’s lowered eyebrows and suspicious gaze, knowing that she had crossed a line that she could no longer uncross.

“Are you suspecting me of something, Major?” Rey asked, stepping closer to him and raising her chin defiantly. 

“I’m simply asking a question,” Major Ren said, his eyes piercing. Rey refused to break away from his steady gaze.

“Anna Wexley has been my acquaintance since Madam Holdo took me in,” Rey replied, the lies coming as easy as breathing. “She is a kind, warm and generous person who helped me adjust to town life. And though I didn’t know her father well, he seemed to be the same. A man undeserved of such a death. Is that the answer you were wanting from me?”

A dark, crippling silence unfolded between them. 

“No.” His deep voice unraveled the building emptiness. “No, because it still doesn’t explain this level of anger. I cannot fathom it. I do not understand.”

“You don’t believe that someone could be angry at the loss of a man’s life? Any man’s?” Rey scoffed. 

“No. Not this angry. And not so obviously directed at my person,” Major Ren bit out. “Especially when death like Wexley’s is happening all around us as we speak.”

“If you don’t understand then you never will,” Rey replied, the sudden need to end this conversation rising up in her. The guilt and anger and sadness were all running together like a tornado in her brain. She was losing more and more control as time went on. 

She stepped back, ready to leave the Major, when his hand latched onto her wrist and dragged her back to him. Rey gasped and pulled out of his hold, ready to snap at him.

“That is not a real answer, Miss Niima,” he said. “Tell me the truth. What did I do?”

“You really want to know?”

“Yes,” Major Ren growled, leaning in closer to her.

“I  _ hated _ what I saw in you today,” Rey said, her voice low and angry. “That revolting emptiness as you executed Wexley. What kind of man executes another in such an unfeeling manner?”

Major Ren’s drew back from her sharply, an anguished twist in his features, his dark eyes closed off to her own. “What?”

“You heard me,” Rey continued, unable to stop her words now. “It was monstrous to watch you execute him like that. That is not the man I thought you were. What I saw today was a husk of a person that I could never understand.”

“No,” Major Ren snapped. “No. You know exactly who I am, Miss Niima. It is your own disillusion that has made you think otherwise. I’m not the honorable and noble soldier that you have become accustomed to while living here in York. I am something else entirely.”

Rey drew back as he leaned in closer to her, a rage twisting his face into something incomprehensible. His breath spread across her face in warm waves. She felt her hands tighten around the muzzle of her rifle, wishing that she had reloaded.

“Then what are you, Major?”

“I am a monster, Miss Niima,” he seethed. “Let me remind you that I am a thing without a soul. I  _ thrive _ in the nothingness of this world. So be prepared to be disappointed in me for I am not what your beautifully foolish mind has made me out to be.”

Their breathing echoed loudly between them, twining together into an invisible rope that bound them to this horrible moment. Beyond the harsh lines of his face, Rey began to see clearly the deep hurt that now resided there as his words sunk deeper into her skin. She had hurt him. Terribly.

All her anger and sadness and guilt vanished, leaving behind the cold reality of regret. It festered until she could find no response. The memory of their conversation on the porch came back to her in vivid clarity when he had spoken about his lost soul. Now she had confirmed exactly what he had thought of himself.

As if seeing her change in temperament, the Major’s face softened into a quiet sadness. “Miss Niima . . .”

“I am needed at the house. Abigail will be wondering where I am.” Rey turned and rushed up the hill, the pain in her ankle so far from her mind that she didn’t even feel it.

“Miss Niima!”

Ignoring his call, she ran into the house. She glanced quickly up to the second floor, but heard no movement. Rose had completed her mission then. A swell of her emotions came rising up in her again, the phantom whispers of the argument already beginning to haunt her. This time anger won out.

Closing the door to her room loudly, Rey felt the sudden urge to break something. Looking across the room, her eyes caught on the brown box sitting on her dresser. She yanked the box open and pulled out one of the plates that the Major had made for her. Raising it above her head, she prepared to smash it against the floor, her hands trembling. But . . . she couldn’t. And that made her more angry.

With a shrill noise of frustration, Rey set the plate down and grabbed a porcelain jar that held incense and threw it against the far wall, watching it shatter into a million pieces. The sound was as satisfying as shooting her rifle. She laughed at the brief release it gave her until she had the crashing realization that she had acted just as the Major would have. 

“Miss Niima?” Rose’s voice filtered through her doorway. She heard the snick of the door being pushed open and the rustling of skirts as she sat heavily on her bed. “What’s going on?”  Rose crossed the room, took in the shattered porcelain and then sat beside Rey, waiting for a response.

“Have I forgotten so soon?” Rey whispered, half to herself.

“Forgotten what?”

“Han.” His name came out sounding like a croak.

“Han?” Rose asked before giving a sharp intake of breath. “Madam Organa’s husband. You knew him?”

“He took me in, Rose, when no-one else wanted me. I knew him before Leia. He was like a father to me and . . . and he would be so ashamed of me.” Rey raised her hands to her face and rubbed at her dry eyes. 

“I don’t think he would be, Miss Niima, you are such a kind and car—”

“They killed him, Rose!” Rey said, turning sharply to look at her. “The British killed him and . . . and I’ve allowed myself to forget that while staying here with him.”

“With him? With the Major you mean?” Rose asked, perplexed.

“Yes. I’ve let him into my head. I’ve let him sway me,” Rey said, her voice sounding wild to her. “I think I’ve begun to care about him and how could I do that? How could I do that when I know what he is?”

“Rey,” Rose whispered her name for the first time and took a hand in her own. “That is natural. You knew what he was but now you are learning  _ who _ he is. There is nothing wrong in seeing the good in people and having compassion.”

“This is war, Rose,” Rey said, yanking her hand away. “He is an enemy. He is on the side that killed Han. There should be no place for compassion now. It already killed Wexley.”

“You tried to save Wexley, but it was he who made the choice to turn back. It wasn’t your fault—”

“Yes! Yes it was,” Rey insisted. “From the very beginning it was my fault. When I should have been paying attention, when I should have been gathering intel, what was I doing? I was being distracted by the Major. If I had only remained on track then perhaps I would have found out that Wexley was being watched by the Major in the first place and none of these events would have taken place. And-and if I had only kept my mouth shut with Simcoe then I wouldn’t have made Wexley a target and—”

“Stop,” Rose commanded in a low tone. “You are taking too much of the blame. You had a few days where you spent time close to the Major, but you don’t actually know when or where he gained intelligence on Wexley. And even so, being close to the Major  _ is  _ your mission.”

“But—”

“Spies can’t catch everything, Miss Niima. If the intelligence was not passed via note and instead by an informant in town, there is no way you could have caught it.”

“But Simcoe.”

“Simcoe would have targeted Wexley no matter what. You saw his outlandish attachment to Anna. Who is to say this wouldn’t have happened eventually?”

“Rose—”

“No. You are trying too hard to be a perfect hero, Miss Niima, and in the process you are destroying yourself. As a friend and as your partner in all things spyish, I’m commanding you to stop this ridiculous behavior right now,” Rose said, rising to her feet and putting her hands on her hips. “Do you hear me?”

Rey took a deep breath while staring up at a very serious Rose, knowing that she wouldn’t take no for an answer. “I do.”

“I can see that you still don’t.” Rose let out a loud sigh and took Rey’s hands in her own once more. “Please, visit Anna tomorrow. Speak to her about this guilt that you are feeling. I think perhaps it may help.”

Rey nodded, feeling relief at the prospect of clearing her conscience to the other person she had potentially hurt the most. But it didn’t alleviate her other problem.

“And here,” Rose said, a brightness returning to her voice. “I was able to get into his room and copy all his letters. You see, you are a good spy, Miss Niima. Everything went according to plan.” She reached into her skirts and then pressed the Major’s seal and a pile of folded parchment into Rey’s hands. Staring down at her own success, Rey saw nothing but more problems ahead.

“But what do I do about the Major?” Rey asked. “I can’t keep feeling this way.”

“You care for him and empathize with him, that’s only human,” Rose said. “Just remember not to cross the line with him. This is an advantage if you keep that bit of distance between you.”

“Of course,” Rey whispered. As if still hearing her distress, Rose sat next to Rey and put her arm around her, murmuring encouragements. But Rey already knew it was too late. A line had been crossed with her and the Major. She had known that the moment he had looked at Wexley’s body and had seemed so empty and callous. 

It had been painful—heart wrenching—to see him in such a way, but it wasn’t just because he had executed Wexley so coldly—though that hurt in ways that could not be forgotten. No. It was also hurtful because it could easily have been her instead of Wexley hanging from that tree. And it could have been her that Major Ren looked at in that way, knowing she was his enemy and not his friend. 

The truth was that she didn’t want him to  _ ever _ look at her like that, not when he had been so kind and understanding to her. Not when he had given her a gift and listened to her without demanding more. Rey didn’t want to lose his friendship, but today had been a reminder. A reminder that she could lose it and in the worst way possible if she wasn’t careful. And that need to keep that connection and protect it left her feeling ashamed for Wexley and for Han and for herself.

Rey looked up at her dresser and at the open case of china, the dying afternoon light catching in the limbs of the painted oak tree, and wished for the impossible: for everything to go back to how it was before she had met Major Ren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I hope you all have an awesome week :)
> 
> My Tumblr: [InfiniteBlackRose’s Tumblr](https://infinitelyblackrose.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ASG Playlist: [A Spy’s Game Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5CynEFYJALjYPTcRBYPrKK)


	17. From One Spy to Another

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> Sorry for the delay on this chapter. I had a busy week and some writer's block, but I'm back!  
> Thank you for all your support and for those that have stuck around for each chapter! You've made writing this even more fun :D

There was a long and crooked crack that ran down the middle of the Wexley’s door. It looked like someone had attempted to paint over it unsuccessfully, leaving a narrow strip of brown in the faded red paint. Rey had been staring at it for what felt like hours when surely it had only been a handful of seconds. Still, she couldn't bring herself to knock. Just as she couldn't bring herself to look at the copies of the Major's letters hidden beneath her floorboards. Yet.

Rey grumbled to herself, frustrated that she had already wasted a whole day avoiding coming here and now was still hesitating. But she was thankful for yesterday. She had spent the day cleaning Raddus House and putting it back in order until it shined like new. And while she had burned off her residual anxiety with labor she had also reined in her wayward emotions and given herself time to think about each one before shelving them away carefully.

No longer did she try to shove them into dark corners, seeing as how that had led to her outbursts to both the Major and to Rose. Rey still felt the burn of embarrassment from such dramatic displays, but now, after yesterday’s distraction, she felt more prepared to finally shelve away her last emotion: guilt.

With a low sigh of resolution, Rey raised her hand and knocked on the door. It took no time at all for it to swing open, revealing, not a servant, but Anna herself. She looked out of sorts: her hair falling out of her bun, her eyes rimmed red from crying and lack of sleep, and her brown dress rumpled into haphazard creases. But beyond all that, she had the bright look of hope and anticipation in her eyes as if she had been waiting for Rey.

“Miss Wex—”

Anna pressed a finger to her lips, hurriedly looking behind her while also yanking on a shawl. She shut the door quietly behind her and rushed Rey out into the lane and towards the market. With a quick tug and pull, the two of them blended into a small crowd walking down the middle of the road.

“I’m sorry for my haste, Miss Niima,” Anna said.

“Is Simcoe bothering you?” Rey asked, moving closer to her in an attempt to avoid two gentlemen rushing past.

“He is always watching me now,” Anna said. “Sometimes he even has me followed when I leave the house.” As if even mentioning the fact would make someone materialize, Anna glanced over her shoulder with narrowed eyes. Finding no-one trailing them, she turned her focus back on Rey.

“Does he suspect . . .” Rey trailed off, leaving the rest to implication.

“It is possible,” Anna replied. “But I think his suspicions lie more with my relationship with Hewlett.”

“Oh. I see . . .” Rey said, not fully comprehending.

“I believe he is jealous,” Anna continued, glancing over her shoulder. “It has made him more . . . attentive.”

Rey felt her stomach flip in unease. “That is not good.”

“No. Not at all,” Anna muttered, pushing a brown lock of hair out of her eyes. “He is preventing me from continuing my intelligence and . . . if I’m being honest, I’ve become frightened for my safety and for Hewlett’s.”

“Has he become violent?”

“Not yet but there is something in his eyes that is unsettling. And after what he did to my father . . .”

A shiver raced up Rey’s spine for more than one reason. With a gentle pull, Rey drew them to a stop, causing a cluster of women to frown at them—their suspicious Tory eyes falling on Anna. Rey shielded Anna from their view and leaned forward.

“Actually, I came to speak to you about your father.”

Anna nodded. “That is good. I’ve been waiting to speak with you as well about him. Come, let’s speak in the garden.”

With a quickness that pushed the limits of propriety, they wove through the market, past the prison, and into the hidden, little garden. Rey took in the stone bench and fountain in wonderment. Nothing had changed since the last time they’d been there and yet, so much had.

After they settled on the bench, Anna turned to Rey. “What did you want to say in regards to my father?”

“I . . .” Rey trailed off.

“Miss Niima?”

Rey felt as if the words were backing up in her throat. She shook her head.

“Please, tell me what news you have for me first,” Rey said, cursing herself silently for such cowardly behavior. It was unseemly but maybe with time the right words would come to her. Anna gave her one last questioning look before brushing her skirts off.

“I’ve been waiting for you to contact me. I thank providence for your timing today.” Anna glanced nervously at the entrance of the alleyway. “My father passed me intel that needs to reach Poe Dameron. Immediately.”

“How?” Rey felt a ripple of shock go through her. And then realization. “The reason why your father went back after I freed him . . .”

Anna gave her a sad smile, one that pulled at the weariness in her eyes. “He heard things while trapped in that prison all day. Things that the soldiers there did not think would be passed on.”

Rey took a deep breath. It was a relief to finally understand Wexley’s choice. “What did he hear?”

Anna leaned forward then, her voice lowering. “The soldiers in the prison were excited about being able to leave York and do something more engaging. My father discovered that Captain Rogers is planning to move a part of his infantry to New Jersey in the coming weeks. And not just anywhere but to Little Egg.”

“Little Egg . . . the harbor we control,” Rey said, suddenly understanding.

“Yes. It seems they are going to dispatch one of our groups of privateers and stop them from capturing British ships. If they succeed we will lose our flow of supplies into New Jersey and York as well some of our own men.”

“With winter nearly here that will be devastating,” Rey whispered. “It will be like Valley Forge all over again.”

“Exactly,” Anna said, eyes wide. “My father knew he could not walk away without passing on this information.”

Rey bit her lips and leaned forward, her hands rubbing at her forehead as she thought. “We lost our courier. And Poe won’t know of what has happened for some time until word reaches him. And we are not in positions to leave York.”

“I have been unable to meet anyone with Simcoe always watching,” Anna said. “I know of only a few others in our network, but they are now probably too scared to travel beyond the borders and risk exposure like my father. There is only one person I can think of who would be willing to go. And even so, I could not risk making contact with them and I’m the last person who knows of the drop site.”

“This person you are speaking of, is it Jarek?” Rey asked, thinking of the blacksmith.

“How did you know?” Anna, her lips pulled down into a shocked frown. “We have been careful not to draw any attention to him.”

“He saved me from being caught from the Major the night I tried to rescue your father,” Rey said. A small smile tugged at her. “He told me he was retired.”

“Retired my arse,” Anna said with a light laugh, her language shocking Rey. “He risked too much if that was the case.”

“I’m grateful he did,” Rey said, thinking about how without him the Major would have discovered her. “If you give me the location of the courier drop, I can maneuver around Simcoe for you and pass on this information.”

Anna’s eyes brightened and she dug into the sewn pocket of her skirts, pulling out a small slip of parchment. She pressed it into Rey’s hands.

“This is the location of the drop site for our intel. Wait until tomorrow to meet with Jarek. I don’t know if Simcoe had any eyes on us today.”

“Of course,” Rey said, beginning to unfold it to see where she would have to tell him to go.

“No!” Anna cried, snatching the paper back from a stunned Rey. “Please don’t read it. You need to merely hand it to Jarek and inform him of why he is now needed.”

“Why ever not?” Rey demanded, stung by the suddenness of her actions.

“Miss Niima . . . I’m sorry with you so close to the Major . . .” Anna trailed off with an apologetic look. “My orders were strict. I cannot break them.”

A flash of irritation coursed through her. Rey felt her limbs stiffen.

“But you are too close to Simcoe and he is too watchful,” Rey said, clasping her hands together tightly. “Does Leia distrust me? Why is she worried that I would reveal secrets about this network?”

“It is more complicated than that.”

Rey stood up from the bench and began pacing in front of Anna, her hands tugging at the sleeves of her dress. Leia always said she believed in her, but Rey had always known that, that trust came with caveats. As much as she understood with so much riding on intelligence, it still hurt that she had been kept in the dark about the network in York and now about simple information like drop sites.

“Why?” Rey turned and crossed her arms. Anna gave her a sympathetic look.

“It is more to do with Major Ren,” Anna said, worry lines creasing her forehead. “He has been known to use torture to extract information. Madam Organa did not want to risk such a thing from occurring with you. And she was afraid knowledge of such information would sway your manner towards him.”

“Torture?” Rey felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. The British army was determined in their overwhelming drive to win but they also upheld the diplomacies of war. Torture was frowned upon. Even the imagined image of Major Ren harming someone to the point of breaking seemed so far-fetched in comparison to the man she was coming to know that it left Rey unsteady. “Are you certain?”

“That was part of our initial report on him before you were sent to join us in York,” Anna said.

“Did he torture your father?” Rey asked, her arms falling to the side. She bit her lip in worry at the potential answer. Wexley had seemed fine prior to his execution, but . . .

“No,” Anna breathed. “Thank God above.”

“Why?” Rey asked, half to herself. If his methods were common knowledge, that change in behavior was unfathomable.

“I don’t know,” Anna said. “But either way, it changes nothing. I’m sorry Miss Niima, but I will not disobey Madam Organa.”

Rey returned to the bench, collapsing upon it with a loud sigh. “Then I will pass this information onto Jarek and I swear, on my honor, that I will not look at the location.” Holding out her hand, she waited for Anna to make her decision. With a hesitant glance, she let the paper fall back into Rey’s hands. Tucking it immediately into the pocket of her own skirts, Rey gave Anna a tight-lipped smile. As much as it hurt, Leia always had a reason for everything and Rey respected her for that. She would simply have to resist her curiosity for one day. She could do that . . . couldn't she?

“Now our next problem is Simcoe,” Anna muttered, rubbing at her eyes as if to clear away her exhaustion. “He is making everything impossible and I can barely stand being around him for another moment. After what he did . . .” A clear film came unbidden to Anna’s eyes. Watching the grief revisit the young woman beside her, Rey felt the rush of things unsaid come back to her. All of this had been a distraction from what she had truly sought Anna out for. And now, she could delay no longer.

Rey stood again, feeling the stretch of her muscles and testing the pressure she could put on her healing ankle, and moved across the small garden to look at the weeds growing from the cracks in the wall. They were brown and wilted. The death of winter curling around them.

“What is it, Miss Niima?” Anna asked, adjusting her skirts to allow herself to turn and face her.

Rey closed her eyes. And opened them. The words she had started to map out in her head didn’t seem like enough, so she started with what she could.

“I wanted to apologize to you,” Rey said, her gaze moving from the dying weeds to Anna’s dark brown eyes. Even with such a simple statement, Rey began to feel the relief of telling her the truth about her involvement in Wexley’s death.

“Apologize?” Anna sounded shocked.

“Yes. I—” Rey took a deep breath and knitted her fingers together. Even with her attempts at composure, her voice still shook with uncertainty. “I found out the day your father was arrested that Major Ren was having Simcoe follow your father. Before his arrest the Major and I had an . . . altercation with Simcoe and-and then this happened. If only I had caught on sooner and stopped that argument between the Major and Simcoe, perhaps he wouldn’t have been targeted and—”

“The Major suspected my father prior to his arrest?” Anna asked, cutting Rey off.

“Yes. I’m so sorry, Anna, I should have discovered Major Ren’s intelligence before it came to this. If only I had, none of this would have happened. Your father’s death—”

“Is on Simcoe’s head. Not ours,” Anna said, a dark rage beneath her words. She stood from the bench and wrapped her arms around her ribs as if to hold herself together. “I spent the day of his arrest blaming myself. I thought about it over and over again. About Simcoe’s obsession with me, how I asked my father to speak to Captain Roger’s about his removal from our home, and how all of that put my father at risk.”

Rey began to shake her head. “Miss Wexley—”

Anna held up her hand to silence her.

“The day they executed my father changed everything. I looked into Simcoe’s eyes and I realized that he and no-one else did this. In his deranged madness, Simcoe was and is capable of anything. Prior knowledge of the Major’s suspicions wouldn’t have stopped him.”

Rey felt her heart lighten at such logic. And that reaction made her pause. She had always been careful to err on the side of reason and yet the last few days had everything she had done had been guided by emotion. What had happened to her?

“Are you certain?” Rey asked, doubt still shadowing her.

“Yes,” Anna said. “I believe that even if I or you or the Major had kept silent, Simcoe would have found someone else close to me to hurt . . . to control me. But I will not be controlled, Miss Niima.”

With an air of confidence and stubbornness, Anna rose from the bench and moved to stand before Rey. Taking her hands in her own, she gave Rey a determined smile. “He won’t control _us_.”

“No,” Rey said, beginning to shake her head as she became swept up by Anna’s enthusiasm. Already, she was beginning to feel her guilt ease. “He won’t.”

“We’ll figure out a way to get rid of Simcoe,” Anna said, dropping Rey’s hands and rubbing away the remaining film from her eyes.

“I wish I had your confidence,” Rey said, folding her arms against a sudden swirl of cool air. “As time has gone on I have begun to feel so . . . uncertain. Of everything.” An image of Major Ren looking at her with a gentle and encouraging expression came to mind. She pushed it aside.

“I wish I had your courage,” Anna said with a sad pull of her eyebrows. “You freed my father when I was so certain it was impossible.”

“But you were right, Miss Wexley,” Rey said, shaking her head. “I was nearly caught. And in the end we lost him.”

“No. You gave him his choice back,” Anna said. “Now we have to make our own moving forward. For my father.”

Rey’s breath caught at the sense of purpose. Wexley’s knowledge grounded her—gave her direction in the maze of her feelings and misgivings. With a smile, Rey nodded, feeling a sense of camaraderie between her and Miss Wexley. And that was rare as spies. Anna returned her smile and nodded at the change she saw in Rey. With a low sigh, Anna turned her gaze to the sky.

“I need to get back home to my sisters. I worry anytime they are alone with Simcoe,” she said, picking up her skirts and beginning to walk toward the narrow alleyway. At the mention of her family, a thought struck Rey and she hurried to catch up with Anna.

“Wait, Miss Wexley.” Reaching for her elbow, Rey drew her to a stop. “I’m sorry I did not ask before. When is your family to be removed from your property?”

Anna paused, her nose and eyebrows crinkled in confusion and surprise. “You didn’t hear?”

“Hear what?”

“Major Ren visited my family yesterday,” Anna said, her eyes studying Rey curiously.

Rey froze. “He visited you?”

“Yes,” Anna said, slowly, tilting her head. “He came to tell us that he had spoken to Captain Rogers. The Major ensured we were granted clemency, Miss Niima.”

The world tilted beneath Rey’s feet, the gray alley walls blurring around her as she took in this new information. “He saved your home. Your family.” Her words came out breathless. “But, why?”

Anna shook her head. “I don’t understand it myself. I’m grateful, but the Major Ren I’ve heard about did not seem like the man I met yesterday.”

“Yes . . .” Rey turned away from Anna, hiding both her shock and the shameful warmth beginning to curl inside of her. “He is not the man I expected either.”

 

********

 

Raddus House was quiet—the kind of quiet that was filled with things unsaid. Quietly shutting the door behind her, Rey took in the empty hallway, wondering if Major Ren was away. A creak of a wooden chair broke the silence and drew her towards the sitting room.

She stopped by the doorway and peered in. One of the small tables had been moved to face the large window overlooking the yellow hill outside. And sitting there was the Major. His back was to her and he wasn’t wearing his overcoat—his white shirt sleeves rolled up as he sketched in his notebook. Leaning against the doorframe, Rey watched his head tilt as he observed something beyond the pane of glass before returning to sketching, the scratch of his quill catching in Rey’s ears. Sunlight pooled over him, illuminating the defined lines of his cheekbones and chin and nose while the soft curves of his lips lifted into something that was not quite a smile.

“Are you trying to find something else in my manner that is distasteful to you, Miss Niima?” His quiet voice filled the room, but he did not turn to look at her—his eyes hidden. Rey straightened, pulling away from the doorframe in embarrassment at being caught staring after their . . . disagreement. His words sent a pang through her even though she knew they were warranted.

Rey took a steadying breath and stepped into the room. “On the contrary, I was attempting to read your mood. I did not know if I should disturb you.”

Major Ren set down his quill and, without turning to face her, motioned towards a chair near him. “It’s too late to worry about that. Please, sit.” His voice sounded distant and guarded.

With hesitant footsteps, Rey moved the chair next to the Major’s and turned it to face the window. After a moment of fighting her skirts into something more comfortable, she rested her hands in her lap, staring down at the curve of the table’s shadow on her open palms—unsure what to say.

“They seem happy,” Major Ren said, cutting through the awkwardness between them. Rey’s attention snapped to the Major’s face to find him staring intently out the window. Following his gaze, she saw Rose and Finn sitting just shy of the top of the hill. Rose was beaming up at him, her black hair ruffled by the wind. With a shy smile of his own, Finn reached out and tucked her wayward hair behind her ear just for the wind to tangle in it once more. Rey could almost imagine the laughter she could not hear for herself.

“They do,” Rey said, turning to look down at the Major’s sketchbook. There in beautifully etched lines were his own renditions of the two lovers. The adoration in their eyes was caught in the black ink of their eyes. “You’ve drawn them perfectly.”

“Thank you.” Major Ren closed his notebook, his fingers running down the cover. A sigh escaped him as he relaxed back into his chair. “I wonder what it would be like to love like that.”

Looking up at the Major, Rey found his expression to be unreadable. This was not the direction she had imagined their conversation to go.

“You’ve never been in love?” Rey asked.

“No. Never,” he replied, folding his arms. With something that appeared to be hesitancy, he turned to face Rey. “Have you?”

“Not that kind of love,” Rey said, breaking eye contact to look back at her hands. “There was a man who took me in after my parents . . . After. I loved him like a father.”

“Loved?”

“Yes,” Rey said. “People have a habit of leaving me. Though his wasn't by choice.”

Major Ren sucked in a low breath. Rey could feel his gaze upon her, but when she went to look, he was staring out the window once again.

“And people have never wanted me,” Major Ren said. “We make a fine pair, don’t we, Miss Niima?” His words were sharp and matter of fact, but she could hear, beneath it all, the pain that came with such a statement.

“I sometimes wish I knew what it is about me that makes it so easy for others to leave,” Rey said, pulling at a loose thread of her skirt. “Maybe if I knew, I could change and they would stay longer.”

A low, sardonic laugh escaped the Major. Rey lifted her head to peer up at him. With a twisted smirk, he shook his head. “People have told me exactly what is wrong with me. In detail. Knowledge doesn’t make such a change any easier.” Major Ren turned to look at her—eyes darkened by emotion. “It just makes it worse knowing what could have kept them, you could not give.”

It was Rey’s turn to suck in a breath, her cruel words after Wexley’s execution coming back to her. She had done to him what she was sure many others had. Caught in her own anger and anxiety, she had cast judgement upon him without asking for clarity. For understanding.

“Major,” Rey said, falling back into formality to ease her discomfort. “I came to you not to speak about love, but to address our previous conversation.”

He let out a shuddered breath and slumped back in his chair, his long limbs comically bent to fit the small space. “There is nothing for us to address, Miss Niima.”

“Of course there is,” Rey said, her shock at his dismissal apparent in her tone. “I said such terrible and cruel things.”

“No. You were simply honest with me,” Major Ren said. “I respect you for that.” Rey drew farther into her chair. _Honesty._ A tight feeling wound in her chest. It seemed no matter who she talked to—a rebel spy or a British Officer—her guilt refused to be completely shelved away in a nice clean corner.

“But what I said was unnecessarily hurtful. I aimed in, my anger, to injure you,” Rey rebuffed. Major Ren shook his head, his untied dark hair brushing against his collar.

“No. You simply spoke the truth about my nature,” he said, a bitter curl to his lips. “I do have an emptiness, Miss Niima. A part of me has lost my humanity and it is something that is irretrievable.”

Anna’s words about the Major’s penchant for torture came to her mind . . . but then so did the knowledge of the kindness he had given out so freely. Rey shook her head.

“No. That’s not true,” Rey said, turning in her chair to fully face him. “I know what you did for Anna Wexley and her family, Major. _That_ is your humanity.”

Major Ren leaned forward in his chair, hair flopping into his eyes as he regarded her in interest. “How did you know what I did for the Wexleys?”

Rey studied him for a moment, wondering if suspicion hid beneath his words. His expression held nothing but simple curiosity. “I had more than just you to apologize to today.”

“Apologize,” Major Ren huffed out in exasperated amusement. “You have nothing to apologize to me for. I told you to share your emotions with me openly and I have not taken my word back on that sentiment. If anything it is I who should apologize for treating you so brashly. I pushed you to answer me.”

Rey let out a surprised laugh causing the Major to look over at her in confused amusement. “It is . . . ridiculous how many times we have found ourselves here.”

“Here?”

Waving a hand in the space between them, Rey said, “Here. Apologizing. How many times has it been now?” A wry grin overtook her. “I wonder if we’ve grown too use to apologizing as a way of keeping those around us from leaving.”

Major Ren’s dark eyebrows raised. “I’m someone you want to keep from leaving?”

A burning heat lit in her chest and bloomed to her cheeks. Her embarrassment overtook her as she glared at the man beside her.

“I could ask you the same,” Rey shot back. A returning blush rushed to the Major’s face. For a long moment, the two of them took in each other’s burning faces before they collapsed into  soft, self-conscious laughter.

Rey was the first to slowly end her laughter, her fingers coming up to push loose strands of her hair behind her ears. She watched slowly as the Major’s smile shrunk into a simple tilt of his lips.

“We are friends, aren’t we?” Rey asked, her voice shaking at admitting that she thought as much. That low bubbling of shame reappeared in her stomach, but she ignored it. The line had been crossed and in the moment, Rey simply didn’t care that she now stood fully on the other side.

“Friends?” Major Ren tilted his head, his eyes unreadable. With a slow blink and a bite of his lip, he finally nodded. “Yes. I daresay we are.”

Rey looked down at her muddy boots poking out from beneath her skirts. “That is good.”

It wasn’t good. Rey knew this logically but hearing him reaffirm it left her lightheaded.

The quiet that had first filled the house with things unsaid warmed into something rosy and new. And Rey didn’t quite know what to do with it. Luckily, the Major spoke, breaking the spell.

“But I do need you to remember that whatever you saw the day of Wexley’s execution _is_ me.”

“Not all of you,” Rey said, giving him a determined stare. “I’ve seen who you truly are, Major. Maybe that . . . emptiness inside you is there, but the man I know is gentle and caring.”

“Gentle . . . and caring,” Major Ren repeated in disbelieving astonishment. He had wide eyes as he let out a shocked breath. “You are going to be sorely disappointed if you cling to that vision of me.”

“You don’t know that,” Rey said with a small lift to her chin. “That version of you is who I’ve grown to know.”

“Perhaps that is because I’m only like that with you,” he said, lowly. So low, it seemed to Rey as if he hadn’t truly meant for her to hear it. Rey opened and closed her mouth. Speechless. Before she could reply, the Major continued. “But I am curious . . . what did you need to apologize to Anna Wexley about?”

Rey took a deep breath, grateful for the change in topic.

“It is a long story, but it also explains my . . . behavior towards you,” Rey said, rearranging her skirts in a manner fit for storytelling.

“Oh?” Major Ren settled into his chair, picking up his quill and fiddling with it.

“And it all has to do with Simcoe.”

“Oh.” His voice darkened immeasurably. He dropped his quill.

“I think perhaps I lashed out at you that day because I felt guilty.” Rey glanced out at the big oak tree just beyond the hill, thinking of Wexley’s noose. “I felt as though I cost Anna her father and I took my anger out on you. I am sorry for it.”

Major Ren waved his hand as if to cast her sentiments away before furrowing his eyebrows. “You believe that Simcoe purposely set up Wexley to get back at me.”

“Yes. Don’t you?” Rey asked.

“I do. But that can’t be the only motivation,” Major Ren said, rubbing at his forehead. “I know he wanted to sabotage me but what is Wexley’s connection to you?”

“It isn’t the only motivation,” Rey said, quietly. He glanced up at her curiously. “Simcoe is housed at the Wexley’s and he is . . . obsessed with Anna Wexley.”

“Obsessed?” Major Ren looked perplexed now.

“He was been tormenting her,” Rey said, angrily. “I saw him one day yanking Miss Wexley about and I intervened. He was not . . . happy about it. That is when, I think, he began to make this about me also.”

“Did he hurt you?” Major Ren demanded, straightening in his chair.

Rey held up her hands. “No. No, I was fine. But he made it clear to me that I had a lesson to learn. And then I found out today that Snap Wexley went to Captain Rogers to ask for Simcoe to be housed somewhere else. I think Simcoe removed Wexley for his own gain and it just was happenstance that he was a rebel. But . . . that did not alleviate my guilt at my involvement.”

“Wexley went to Rogers and was turned away?” Major Ren looked . . . upset.

“Yes.”

“I see.” Major Ren pressed his fingertips to his lips, thinking. “Rogers is a fool.”

“It seems so,” Rey said, dryly—thinking about him rubbing his own wig powder beneath his nose at Wexley’s execution. “I’m surprised you were able to even make him grant the Wexley’s clemency.”

Major Ren huffed out a laugh and ran a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t an easy feat, but it was worth it. A family shouldn’t have to pay for their father’s mistakes.”

Rey looked at him, gratitude filling her even as she half-disagreed with him. Wexley had made no mistakes, no matter the outcome. He had died a Patriot.

“How did you do it?” Rey asked, leaning forward, her mind shifting in motivation.

“Rogers has a . . . weakness for the fairer sex,” Major Ren said, sarcastically. “When I told him Wexley’s wife and daughters didn’t need to suffer he jumped at being the hero.”

“Why didn’t he grant Wexley’s request at a change of housing for Simcoe then?”

“Rogers places his own men above women, Miss Niima.”

Rey’s mind began to race, a plan starting to slowly form in her mind—one that just might work. “Always?”

Major Ren studied her growing smile with a vague aura of curious amusement. “That I’m not sure of. Why? What are you thinking?”

“I think I have an idea that could both help Anna Wexley _and_ get rid of Simcoe from our lives,” Rey said with an enthusiastic and confident smile. “Will you help me?”

Major Ren returned her bright grin with a dark, predatorial one.

“It would be my pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Until next week :)
> 
> My Tumblr: [InfiniteBlackRose’s Tumblr](https://infinitelyblackrose.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ASG Playlist: [A Spy’s Game Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5CynEFYJALjYPTcRBYPrKK)


	18. Truth and Status

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up splitting what was suppose to be one chapter into two so I'm hoping to have the next bit posted sooner than normal!  
> Thanks for all your comments and kudos!  
> :D

The heat of the large forge beat back the crisp morning air and filled the space around Rey with smoke. Ducking below hanging bayonetts, she made her way into the heart of the smithy, the sharp crack of a hammer ringing in her ears. She passed around a table filled with tools to see the covered corner she had hidden in not even a week ago. Grimacing, Rey turned from that hideaway to see Jarek shaping a pair of horseshoes.

In the morning light, his dark eyes had a soft quality to them and she could see the curls of his brown hair had a single gray stripe running through them. He was older than she had first assumed, but the lean quality of his body and the subtle liviliness in his movements lent themselves to someone ten years his junior. He paused his hammering, his gaze catching on her.

“Miss Niima,” he greeted, putting down his hammer and brushing off his smock. 

Rey reached up and touched one of the hanging bayonetts beside her, watching as it began to sway. Pulling away her finger, she stared at the spot of blood that now pooled on her index finger at the weapons sharpness. He was a fine blacksmith.

“I didn’t know you knew who I was,” Rey said, rubbing the blood between her fingers. “Though I assume you were aware all along.”

Jarek studied her, his head tilted in assessment. He gave her a small smile and went about putting away his tools. “I can see that upsets you.”

Rey began following him around his shop, taking in the dusty and well-loved surroundings. “As much as finding out that you aren’t retired.”

With a low chuckle, Jarek gave a shrug and put his hands on his hips. “It was once true. Madam Organa assured that I didn’t stay in such a state.”

“So everyone here is aware of the network in York but me,” Rey said, some bitterness escaping into her words. “I thought that Culper was the only spy ring in existence. It seems that I have been lied to. I am not simply a shadow agent.”

“You are the first to be placed so close to a high-ranking officer. An Intelligence officer at that,” Jarek said with another small shrug. “It is as it should be.”

“Hmm,” Rey hummed at the echo of Anna's logic. “But I do not like being blind.”

“A spy’s job is to be blind,” Jarek said. “But to then find a path in the darkness. One that can lead us all out.” He turned to his work table and lifted his smock off, his hair coming undone from its low ponytail. Annoyance prickled at Rey, but she could not help the admiration growing at his easy and intelligent manner.

“I cannot compete against such a fine sentiment,” Rey said, looking at the gray sky beyond the entrance of the smithy. “Or it’s logic.”

With gentle hands, Jarek folded his smock into a neat black square and placed it on his work table. “What brings you here, Miss Niima?”

Rey moved to face Jarek. “I came on the behest of Miss Wexley. We were hoping you would take Snap Wexley’s place as courier.”

“Ah.” Jarek folded his arms across his chest. “I see.”

“Are you willing? I know there would be risks.”

Jarek looked down at the ground for a moment before giving a low click of his tongue and looking back up at Rey.

“I would be more than willing. And I have the perfect cover now,” he said, his gaze shifted to the bayonetts just past Rey’s shoulder. “What news do you have for me to pass on? And where is the dropsite?”

“I have a letter that must make it to Poe Dameron as soon as possible.” Rey pulled out the envelope containing news of Little Egg and other personal matters from her skirt pocket and handed it to Jarek. “As for the dropsite, it is for your eyes only.” With some hesitancy, she also pulled out the small folded up note to hand to Jarek. It had taken all her effort not to look at it. Somehow she had resisted, but it hadn’t been without irritation.

Jarek took the note, unfolded it, and stared at what was written there for longer than what was necessary.

“What is it?” Rey felt her eyebrows furrow. Jarek didn’t respond. He simply walked past her and threw the note into the roaring fire of his forge. 

“I will see it done,” he said with a sharp nod. “I will be taking my next shipment of weapons out in two days time.”

Rey watched the note curl in on itself as it was lost to the dancing flames. Whatever it held was not something that Jarek had even known about. With a frustrated tug of her sleeves, Rey prayed that Poe would heed her request for a meeting. There was much she wanted answers to. The clanging of metal brought her back to the present. Pulling her attention away from the fire, she saw Jarek yanking down bayonetts and sabers into haphazard piles.

“It must be painful making weapons for the enemy,” Rey noted. “I don't think I could do it.”

“It is part of being a spy,” he said. “One must dance between sides. It aids my cover. However, that won’t stop me from smuggling weapons to our side either.” The last part made him smile. Rey smiled in return and went about looking at the shop. “Is there something else you wanted?”

For some time she didn’t reply, picking up the hammer left on the anvil and testing its weight. There was something comforting about Jarek’s workshop. Something that reminded her of Han. 

Rey blinked away the thought. It seemed that he was all around her lately. Ever since she had spoken to Rose, it was like he wouldn’t leave her.

“Do you like being a blacksmith?” she asked, setting the hammer down.

“Yes.” The answer was simple but filled with quiet happiness.

“I used to help make horseshoes and other tools,” Rey said, her voice wavering. “It’s been years since I’ve made anything.” All her time had been given to training as a spy—to the revolution. But . . . it wasn’t just that. Even the memory of such ability had stung too deeply for her to continue the hobby.

“You miss it.” There was no question in his voice. Rey breathed in the familiar mix of scents: metal and ash and sweat. The smell of creation and hardwork. This place was like an echo of a time she couldn’t get back.

“Yes.”

“Perhaps, when this war is over you will be my apprentice,” Jarek said, folding his arms.

Rey let out a surprised laugh, happy at the distraction of his suggestion. “A woman and a servant as a blacksmith’s apprentice. It is laughable.”

“As laughable as a man of my skin color being a respected blacksmith,” Jarek said. His eyes were steady on hers. “We can settle in the roles given to us or we can make our own, Miss Niima.”

“I don’t particularly know what role I should fit into,” Rey said, dismissing his absurd offer. “For now, I’m just . . . me.”

Jarek nodded thoughtfully and scratched at his short beard.

With a deep sigh, Rey started to move towards the entrance of the shop.

“Thank you,” she said. “Not just for this, but for all the help you have given.” 

Nodding, Jarek gave her a final parting smile and said: “If ever you change your mind, you know where I’ll be.”

Rey hurried out of the smithy, drawing her shawl tighter around her to ward off the cold air and the thoughts of a possible future that was simply impossible.

 

********

 

Rey couldn’t get used to walking side by side with a British Officer through town. It was just . . . unfathomable. A spy and a redcoat on the same side, walking into what was sure to be a confrontation with Simcoe, felt both exhilarating in its oddness and uncomfortable in its wrongness. Looking up and seeing Major Ren grimacing and tipping his tricorn hat in an attempt to avoid the heckles of a merchant made Rey smile. Admittedly, it was more exhilarating than uncomfortable. Together they were going to put an end to Simcoe’s madness.

“Miss Wexley knows what time to be there?” Major Ren looked out of the corner of his eye at her. Rey watched Major Ren's jaw tense as he gritted his teeth. Nerves. It was something she was unused to seeing in him.

“Yes,” Rey said, lengthening her strides to match his as they made their way into the out skirts of the market. “It was as you said. Simcoe and Hewlett were at the barracks. I passed on the plan unimpeded. Miss Wexley will be there.”

A tight nod. “Good.”

“You were able to speak with Hewlett without Simcoe knowing?” Rey asked.

“Yes,” he said, voice tight. “Though I may have stopped the man's heart in the process.” A dark humor pulled at his lips.

“Stopped his heart?” Rey asked, uncomprehending.

“Having a man like me pull you aside to talk alone isn't exactly comforting,” Major Ren muttered, picking some lint from his otherwise spotless coat. “I'm not well received in the barracks.”

“Ah,” Rey said. “Is that why you are so nervous?”

“I’m not nervous,” Major Ren said, his steps picking up speed. Rey hurried to catch up.

“You are.”

“No I’m not.”

“Major,” Rey admonished, a grin starting to grow.

“Fine. I’m nervous.” A deep sigh escaped him as he dodged around a couple strolling slowly before them. “Captain Roberts strongly dislikes me, Miss Niima. I could very well ruin this whole thing with my presence.”

Rey waved away the concern. “You are a witness and your voice has weight. As does Hewlett’s. Have faith, Major.”

“Faith,” Major Ren bit out, sarcasm spilling from the single word. 

“Yes,” Rey said. “Faith.” It was Rey’s turn to dodge around a group of slow moving people. The brief distraction alleviating the obvious silence and disbelief on the Major’s part.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t embellish our stories a little?” He gave a wry grin as if trying to mask how seriously he had considered the question. “Captain Rogers is easily swayed by dramatics.”

“No.” Rey shook her head. “I think it’s best if we keep to the facts.”

“I hope the barebones is enough.”

Rey slowed her steps a little, forcing Major Ren to do the same. He turned to look at her with raised eyebrows. “The truth is incredibly powerful, Major. It will work.” She didn’t wait for his reply before speeding back up, smiling to herself as the Major finally took a turn at having to rush to keep up, the loud click of his boots echoing beside her. For a moment, Rey took pleasure in the simplicity of walking through the market with him. Of them being on the same side. It was a relief to have a common goal shared between them. And, if Rey was honest with herself, it gave her a break from the constant push and pull of the growing friendship between them and the need to do her duty.

That pleasure was quickly hampered though, stripped away by something as simple as a look. No longer were they on the edge of the marketplace, but in the heart of it. Major Ren in his height and blaring red coat drew attention from the townspeople, their eyes following him in awe and in anxiousness. But their gazes didn’t stay on him, they also fell on Rey, who was accompanying him. 

A pair of young gentlewomen with fancy coiffures stared at Rey, their faces filled with gleeful derision as they took in her state of dress. Looking down, Rey blushed at her plain brown dress—an obvious marker of her station as a servant. She didn’t have the look or manner of a woman of status. As Rey and the Major moved on, they passed an older woman, who gave them (no . . . Rey) a look of disgust as her lips puckered into a ‘tsk’ of disapproval. Rey glanced at Major Ren to see if he saw the blatant reproach of them walking side by side like equals, but his attention was stuck ahead, his focus set only on their plan. 

The burning of shame and frustration overtook Rey’s exhilaration at them working together. She had forgotten that even beyond their duties as soldier and spy, they would always be separated by station. Jarek spoke of not settling in the roles given to them, but when it came to being a woman, a servant, and someone of Rey’s sordid past . . . there truly was no escape for how society would always see her.

With a sigh of resignation, Rey fell out of step with the Major and moved to trail behind him—where she belonged. 

Major Ren noticed immediately that she was was gone from his side, his head turning left and right before finally glancing behind him. His eyebrows lowered above his dark eyes, the wind pinking his cheeks into something that didn’t quite resemble a blush. A question lingered around his lips, but Rey shook her head before turning attention ahead and cutting off his unspoken words.

Yes. It was where she belonged.

 

********

 

Captain Roberts’ office was sweltering. A fire roared in the fireplace in the corner of the room—the only light in the dark wood of the office. It was a sparsely filled room with only a simple wooden desk before a small window and two chairs left on either side of the fireplace.

Captain Roberts sat behind his desk, his arms folded primly upon it as he took in Major Ren, Rey, Anna, and Hewlett with an annoyed expression. Only the crackling of the fire and the rhythmic tapping of his fingers against the wood filled the room. 

“You are here to file an official complaint against Simcoe?” he asked, his gaze flitting between all of them.

“Yes, Sir,” Hewlett replied after giving a low cough. 

“The upstanding soldier who exposed your traitorous father.” Captain Rogers turned to face Anna Wexley with raised eyebrows. “Is that correct?”

“He may have exposed my father’s wrongdoings. But he is not an upstanding soldier, Sir,” Anna said, stepping forward, a sad wavering in her voice. “And I hope you take into account our stories without judgement. I wasn’t part of my father’s treachery. Something that, by your grace, you acknowledged when granting my family reprieve. I have come with nothing but respect and care in mind for you and the Army.”

If Rey didn’t know better, she would have believed every word that came from Anna’s lips. She felt a curl of gratification in her belly as Captain Roger’s expression softened. 

“I see,” he said, rubbing at his upper lip. “Yes. Of course. You are an innocent, Miss Wexley, and your words will be listened to. However . . .” The Captain turned to look at Major Ren with critical pig-like eyes. “I smell something foul in all this. I wonder why Snoke’s lapdog is involved.” Venom laced itself around his words.

Rey peered out of the corner of her eye, catching Major Ren’s hand curling into an agitated fist. Already, she could feel a dark aura beginning to ebb off of him in unsteady waves. With a small discreet step and using the end of her shawl as a shield, Rey lowered her hand and brushed the back of her fingers against his trembling fist. At her gentle touch, his hand relaxed and he searchingly moved his fingertips against the back of her hand. With slow, measured movements, he turned her hand and interlaced his fingers through hers.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Rey forced herself not to turn to look at him. This was . . . beyond propriety. It was incredibly intimate and she knew deep down she should tug her hand away from his and—

Rey felt him tighten his hold on her hand as if he could sense her thoughts. And in that moment she decided that she couldn’t pull away from him. Not now. In reassurance, Rey gave his hand a light squeeze, breathless at this sudden physical connection between them. 

Major Ren took a rattling breath, his anger in check, and addressed the Captain. “I am here as a witness, Captain Rogers. Simcoe was inappropriate with my Head Servant as well as Miss Wexley. I simply want to share my voice of reason.”

“Voice of reason? From you? How ridiculous.” Rogers lounged back in his chair with an amused twitch of his lips. His eyes flickered to Hewlett. “Go retrieve Simcoe. He should be here for such accusations.”

Hewlett gave a sharp nod and left the room. An uncomfortable void of silence filled the space between those left behind. Captain Rogers resumed the tapping of his fingers, his eyes locked on Major Ren as if the man would jump across the desk and attack him at any moment. Rey saw Anna begin fidgeting beside her at the growing tension in the room and the unavoidable knowledge that Simcoe would soon be trapped in the small office with her. 

Rey reached out and took Anna’s hand in her own. With a smile of gratitude Anna gave her a nod and turned to face Captain Rogers again. Now linked between to two people, Rey felt her own low hum of nerves dwindle even as she heard the door open and shut loudly behind her.

“Ah. Simcoe,” Major Roberts said, straightening. “Please join us. There are complaints that require addressing.”

Simcoe stalked around the line of people facing the desk, making eye contact with each of them. As he stared Rey down, she felt her chin lift and eyes harden in defiance even in the face of a man barely in control of a cool rage. When his eyes flickered to Anna, she wouldn’t look at him—her gaze set resolutely ahead. Hewlett’s attention remained on Anna only. 

Simcoe yanked one of the chairs from beside the fireplace and set it down with a loud thud beside Captain Rogers’ desk. With the movements of a cornered snake, he coiled into the chair—his eyes wild in anger. “I’d be grateful to hear what accusations have been levelled at me.” 

“Why don’t we start with you, Hewlett,” Captain Rogers said, looking down at a chip in his desk. 

“Yes, Sir.” Hewlett finally broke his worried gaze from Anna and began recounting everything he had witnessed from Simcoe’s inappropriate behavior towards Rey to questionable behavior he had taken notice of while living with Miss Wexley and Simcoe. 

And like that, one by one, they all told the Captain what they had experienced in regards to Simcoe. The whole and simple truth. Rey’s experience of him touching her and threatening her to her witnessing his aggressive behavior towards Anna in public, the Major’s own view of what he had seen happen in Raddus House towards Rey and the subsequent violent tendencies he had shown in previous altercations towards a Superior, and Anna’s own traumatic experiences that had left her in a constant state of fear in her own home. The inappropriate touching, advances made that were beyond the bounds of propriety and aggressive behavior that had followed her for months. And at the end, Anna stared at Captain Rogers with a hard and tormented look.

“This was something brought to your attention by my father, but was ignored,” she said, her grip tightening around Rey’s hand. “It can be ignored no longer.” Captain Rogers opened his mouth in protest but Simcoe cut him off.

“These are all falsehoods, Sir,” Simcoe said, lowly. He folded his arms and leaned forward in his chair. “Given by a spurned woman, a servant, and two officers—one with questionable loyalties.” Major Ren’s grip tightened at the attack, but Rey didn’t let go. 

“Not by a spurned woman,” Anna said, her gaze, for the first time, falling upon Simcoe. “I am a gentlewoman and a victim of torment and obsession, Sir.”

“Be that as it may, Miss Wexley,” Captain Rogers said, his hand running across his chin. “I only have the accounts of such actions and no proof.”

“Proof?” Major Ren scoffed. “You have four respectable people who have all witnessed the same thing. There must be repercussions for such behavior.”

“Four biased accusations,” Simcoe said, a grin spreading across his face. “Accusations that demean both me and the Captain unnecessarily.”

“Yes. Quite right,” Captain Rogers said, puffing his chest out in sudden indignation. Rey could see it. The Captain was about to dismiss everything and she simply couldn’t let that happen. Not when they were so close.

“Demean. Yes, but not just you. The whole of the British Royal Army as well,” Rey said, breaking her silence. 

“Excuse me?” Captain Rogers looked flabbergasted at a servant speaking so bluntly. 

“We were not the only witnesses of such acts committed against Miss Wexley, Sir. And you know how tongues wag in town. There is no saying how far the stories of what has transpired around Simcoe will go and to whose influential ears. York may be filled with Loyalists, but we all know how quickly loyalties can turn.”

“Are you . . . threatening me?” Captain Rogers demanded. “A servant? How dare you.”

“No. I’m not threatening you.” Rey released both the Major’s and Anna’s hands and took a step forward. “I’m warning you. Not as a servant but as a woman of York and as a loyal subject of the Crown.”

“Miss Niima is right,” Major Ren said, taking a step forward with her. “If word spreads that a British officer is tormenting a respected gentlewoman in York, there will be dissent. The war has already caused unrest among colonists. If this behavior continues, and continues so publicly, it will tarnish the British Royal Army’s reputation of honor. We can’t have that, Captain. Not when we depend so much on the goodwill of the people here.”

Rey witnessed, with satisfaction, a flicker of fear appear in Captain Rogers eyes. A future of protests and disquiet from the populace rose up in all their minds. The man fidgeted in his seat, a long breath whistling from his nose. Rey held back her grin. The truth of the situation was a heavy thing and the Captain was a man who would do anything to avoid conflict and protect his image.

“Captain—”

Rogers silenced Simcoe with a flick of his hand. “What do you propose be done, Major Ren?” The words were gritted out as if they took all his energy to even ask.

“Demotion and transfer, Sir.” Major Ren straightened and looked over at Simcoe with indifference. “As soon as possible to prevent any rumors of the Army protecting such repulsive behavior. It will show everyone how serious such accusations are taken.”

Simcoe uncoiled from his chair, the blue of his eyes taking on an icy quality. “You would dare to presume the Captain would do such a thing to me?  I brought Wexley to justice. I was the one who—”

“Enough.” Captain Rogers slowly stood from his own chair. “Major Ren speaks true in these matters. If you have brought undo attention upon yourself from the people before us, I can’t cover for you if it spreads to the rest of the public.”

“Captain—”

“You will be demoted and transferred to the Queen’s Rangers. Effective immediately.” Captain Rogers scratched at the hairline of his powdered wig, irritation making the movements jerky. 

Simcoe spun around to face Captain Rogers, his face contorted in rage. “Everything they are saying are lies!”

“The men of this army and the outcome of this war take precedence over who is speaking truth or not. These accusation have weight, Simcoe.” Captain Rogers face fell into a calm sort of acceptance. “Do not add disobedience to the list. Do as you are ordered.”

As if he had been shot through the chest, Simcoe went rigid. There was a long beat of silence and then a sharp laugh. He turned to face Rey and Anna, his eyes blazing.

“Fucking whores,” he spat before shoving through them and out the door, the wood frame shaking as it was slammed shut.  Rey shivered at the release of tension from the room as if Simcoe had taken it all with him. For some time, no-one moved, taking in everything that had happened.

Rey felt a hand latch onto hers. Looking over, she found Anna giving her a watery grin. “We did it.”

“We did.” It came out in breathless excitement and disbelief. They had done it. She had done it.  _ A servant,  _ Rey thought with bitter glee, her eyes glancing at a frustrated Captain Rogers. Perhaps, she would always be separated by station from the woman holding her hand and the Major beside her giving her a look of approval and accomplishment, but in this matter she had surpassed her own place in society. Of course she would have to return to where she belonged, but that brief moment of escape and of influence gave her a sense of freedom. One that she would cherish forever.

Anna pulled Rey into a hug, her arms trembling around her. “Thank you.”

Rey took a deep breath. It was over. All over. “You’re welcome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Or is it over?
> 
> Thanks for reading! Until next time :D
> 
> [InfiniteBlackRose’s Tumblr](https://infinitelyblackrose.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [A Spy’s Game Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5CynEFYJALjYPTcRBYPrKK)


	19. Want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. You guys. I finished this chapter.  
> I'm not sure how I feel about it . . . but let's just say a lot happens haha  
> P.S. I'm sorry if there are any typos!

Rey trailed behind Major Ren as they left the barracks, a weight lifted from both their shoulders. The afternoon sun was brighter than before as it rained down on them. Merchants crying out to potential buyers and the smell of hay and smoke hovered above them. Nothing had changed for those beyond the walls of Captain Rogers’ office.

Rey felt off balance. It seemed as if the whole world should have felt a shift. A change. And it wasn’t just because someone like Rey had helped alter a person’s position of power, but because of the step that had taken her farther from that line—the one she should have never crossed in the first place. She stared down at her hand, pale in the glow of daylight, the blue veins unchanged in their splintered pattern. And yet . . . there was a remnant of warmth that hadn’t been there before.

“Miss Niima?”

Rey looked up from her hand sharply, the Major’s inquiry yanking her from her thoughts. She dropped her hand back to her side. “Yes?”

Major Ren’s lips twitched but his eyes remained serious. “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”

Rey shook her head. “My apologies.”

“I was saying that I’ve been planning on showing you something.” Major Ren stopped walking and moved to an empty street corner, the rest of the world bustling by them.

“Show me something?” Rey asked, her mind scrambling to find a quietness after all that had happened.

Major Ren’s gaze fell to his boots for a moment. When he looked back up at Rey there was a new nervousness in his eyes. “Yes. To celebrate our victory.”

Rey blinked—her mind hyper focusing on what he was saying. At his shy look, she felt recentered. 

“Ah. So you did have faith all along that it would work out,” Rey said, teasingly. “You hide behind your pessimism, Major, but deep down there is an optimist in you.”

“I resent that,” Major Ren replied, gruffly, straightening his coat collar. “I was simply prepared to show you in case we lost, as compensation for low spirits.”

“It’s too late.” Rey crossed her arms. “I already know what you are.”

“Do you?” His tone changed to something deeper and less playful—one that sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. His eyes glimmered with an unspoken challenge. Rey sucked in a quiet breath at the prickle of anticipation for something she couldn’t quite place.

A young gentlemen with a stylish blue overcoat brushed past Rey, forcing her to step closer to the Major. A jittery feeling brushed across her as she tipped her head back to meet his gaze. Keeping her teasing tone, she said: “I suppose as well as I can. Though you still seem like a puzzle to me. I have yet to make all the pieces fit.”

“Then we are of the same opinion,” he said. “Everyday, I feel as though I discover something new about you but I can never quite see the whole picture.” He tipped his head as he studied her.

“Perhaps you never will.” Rey fought to keep a light heartedness in her voice. Major Ren never could see the whole of who she was and she would do anything in her power to prevent such an outcome from occurring. 

“You’re right,” he said, a smile in his eyes. “I may never . . . Perhaps I should give up?”

“You’re just saying that to prove to me that you aren’t an optimist,” Rey said, hoping deep down he would do just that. 

Major Ren raised both hands in the air. “You caught me, Miss Niima. You’re perceptive as always.” Rey gave a small laugh that made the Major’s eyes brighten. They were caught there, in a swirl of quiet laughter and smiles, before an annoyed and gruff cough shattered the moment.

Looking beyond their little corner on the street, Rey saw Captain Rogers pass by with a group of soldiers, his disapproving eyes lingering on them before he shook his head and looked ahead once more. Rey’s attention flitted back to the Major to find his once bright eyes darken in irritation. 

“Major, there is something I wanted to ask.”

“Yes?” He dragged his gaze from marching redcoats.

“Why does Captain Rogers dislike you so much?” Rey asked. “Or the other officers for that matter?”

He stiffened at the question. With agitated movements, Major Ren straightened his hat, displacing his purposely-placed hair to reveal the tips of his ears. Rey bit her lip, holding back a low laugh. He looked, in that moment, like an upset youth rather than the soldier and man he was.

“I’ve never truly been respected in the army,” he said. “They question my loyalties and my status—they’ve never believed I deserve to be where I am.”

“But why?” Rey couldn’t quite fathom it.

“I’m a colonist. Born and raised here. I may be a subject of the Crown but I’m not truly British in their eyes.” Major Ren shook his head. “Of course, I exclude General Snoke from this. He has only ever seen my capabilities.”

“I’ve heard the army often dislikes General Snoke.”

“Snoke came from low origins but rose to the top anyways. He is known to do anything it takes to achieve a goal,” Major Ren said, awe and admiration entering his voice. “It is something others simply envy.”

“You wish to be like him.” Rey hoped he would contradict her and give her a different answer from the one he would surely give.

“Of course.” Major Ren nodded and Rey’s heart sunk a little. “He may be disliked, Miss Niima, but he is respected. I want more than anything to be seen in the same light—for people to look at me and see a man who is capable and determined. Someone who could change the world.”

Visions of torture and bloodshed and warfare collided with the image of a man searching for acceptance. Had he gone to the ends of morality searching for that from Snoke? Rey couldn’t help but be reminded of the little girl who may have done the same thing not so very long ago.

And perhaps it was the remembrance of that little girl in her—the one who had been one choice away from being the man before her—that prompted her to say what she did next.

“You don’t need to become Snoke to achieve that. I think you already are becoming that man. Maybe it is you that needs to see that first.”

And it seemed the truth. Rey recalled how, even though his plans had been thwarted by Simcoe, he had been wise to step back and follow Wexley—to play the long game in discovering the network in York. And he had understood how she, a rebel, would react to Wexley being captured; he had been determined to save a sound plan. It was enough to garner her respect even though luck hadn’t been on his side and neither was she. It seemed a shame to Rey that no-one could see it—that potential. 

If only that potential was on her side.

A quiet ballooned around them, silencing the chattering of the marketplace. Rey twitched, suddenly uncomfortable. Had she been too presumptuous? Too condescending to a man far above her rank? Or were her words too knowing? Too intimate? She couldn’t read the look he was giving her with those dark eyes. 

Unable to handle another moment of disquiet, Rey spoke.

“I’m sor—”

“Miss Ni—”

They both fell silent at the awkward timing. Major Ren shuffled his feet and gave a low cough before continuing.

“I believe, Miss Niima, that you are wholly an optimist.”

“Don’t say that like its a bad thing,” Rey muttered.

“I’m not,” Major Ren said. “It’s admirable. Truly.”

Another pause and then Major Ren gave her a small smile. “Could I also ask you a question?”

“Yes . . .” Rey trailed off, squinting her eyes in concern for what it could be.

“What is it that  _ you _ want?”

“Want?”

“Yes. From life.”

“Oh.” It wasn’t what Rey expected. She looked down at her feet. Up to the sky. Back to the Major’s inquisitive gaze. Images came to her then of how the women in town had looked at her walking beside him. Rey took a breath.

“I want to find a place where I fit.”

“Well then.” Major Ren’s eyes brightened once again.  He raised his arm to her, waiting to guide her into the chaos of the market around them. “I think I have just the place.”

 

********

 

Major Ren was irritated with her. She could see it in his clipped steps and the way he wouldn’t even tip his head a little to glance back at her. With a sigh, Rey crossed her arms and looked around at the groups of people flowing around them: their clothing like a dim rainbow of browns and grays and blues and an occasional yellow that was completely out of season. But it was as if she did not fully see them—the Major’s blackened mood winding tightly around them like a dark veil. 

And it was all because she hadn’t taken his arm. And, also, because she had refused to walk beside him. It was not proper for her to continue to pretend that she was a gentlewoman when with him. Rey was a servant and no matter the Major’s insistence for roles not existing between them, being out in society had shown her how foolhardy such a notion was. So, she had refused him and told him that if he wanted to show her whatever it was he wanted to show her, he would have to accept that she would remain exactly where she was: three steps behind him. The Major had not taken kindly to the agreement and was now set on a path of acting like a petulant child. But . . .

Rey smiled to herself. It was rather amusing seeing him so put out by such a simple thing. Not that she would let him know that. 

They made their way through the market, weaving in and out of the people around them, though small paths opened up here and there for the Major—the red of his uniform seeming to ward off people from blocking his way. 

Making their way north, away from where the Raddus House was, they slowly left the market behind and began walking the streets of where the wealthy lived. The elegant brown stone walls of residences rose high above Rey’s head. Brass knockers on finely painted doors and small echoes of gardens before shuttered windows welcomed them into a quieter part of York. Groups of people milled around them as they moved off the street to the stone walkways. It was a busy day and many people were enjoying what was surely one of the last days of good weather on walks about town. Rey looked around wondering how she could possibly fit into anything this part of York could offer.

In the absence of conversation, Rey took to enjoying the feeling of walking with no mind for what would come next or where she was going. Without the smoke and mix of smells of the market, she was able to enjoy the fresh air and light breezes around her. And for a time there was no anxiety or worry or stress. Just the ever lengthening walkway before her. 

Until a prickle went up her spine. 

Rey straightened, her eyes glancing on either side of her before she swiveled to look behind her. There was a group of women trailing behind them, their colorful parasols resting against their shoulders. They looked at her curiously before Rey turned back around. An uneasy warning settled low in her belly. Something felt off—like someone was watching them. She scanned her surroundings again but everything looked in place: a couple of gentleman debating on a street corner, some gigs passing by loudly in the streets, laughter from the group of socialites behind them, children racing from house to house across the street.

“Major?” Rey called. “Are we nearly there?”

“I’ll tell you if you come walk beside me,” he answered, not even bothering to look at her. She could hear the grumble in his voice. Rey let out a sigh of frustration and went back to her surveillance. Nothing was amiss. She pondered telling Major Ren but the farther they walked, the more that feeling of being watched faded away until she wondered if it had all been in her imagination in the first place. She looked behind her once more. Nothing. With a release of breath, Rey shrugged off her feelings and concentrated on keeping up with the Major.

They walked some time down the main road before Major Ren veered off down a side street and then down through winding paths that narrowed into what could almost be considered alleys. The elegant brownstones became more faded and less grand—older. This was where York had started to become more than just a settlement. Major Ren glanced back at her for the first time since the marketplace, to reassure she was with him, before he turned right down a passageway. 

It was darker. The walls rising above them a mix of brown and gray. Reaching out to skim her hands along them, she felt the damp cold of past storms that lingered there. The ground beneath them changed from cobblestone to dirt, the soft earth erasing the sound of their footfalls. Oddly, Rey felt more comfortable here than out on the beautiful street behind them. Perhaps it was how hidden away this place felt. They passed several alleys that shot off from the one they were walking down, their winding paths darker and more dreary, leading to old servants quarters in the back of the houses. 

At the third one they passed, Rey saw a flicker of movement in its depths. She paused. Moving back a step, she peered farther in, but her eyes were taking too long to adjust to the dim light. She turned to see if the Major was still close by but found that he was farther ahead then she had realized. Quickly, Rey moved to catch up, her feet kicking up pivots of dirt, when she felt arms wrap around her waist and chest—dragging her into the that dim alley. 

With a gasp, Rey went to scream but a hand moved up and clasped tightly around her mouth, silencing her.  She kicked her feet in a mad scramble for purchase but all it did was tangle and twist her skirts around her legs. _No no no no no no_ _not again_. Thrashing and pitching her body back and forth, she tried to use her weight to throw her captor off, but to no avail. 

Her arms were pinned to her sides so tightly that she couldn’t even claw at the arms latched around her.  _ The crashing of waves echoed in her ears, the floor of the ship tipping below her feet.  _ Rey’s screams were muffled by clammy skin as her heart picked up speed into an unsteady, racing beat. She blinked trying to adjust her eyes to the lack of sunlight.  _ The spray of water licked at her and pushed her away from the railing towards the Captain’s cabin _ — _ the glass doors flung open like a horrid maw waiting for its next meal.  _ Thrusting her head back, she tried to hit the person holding her, but all she heard was a low hiss in her ears. The grip around her constricted tighter. 

Her memories continued to rise up and crash into her reality. The arms around her grew bigger and meatier. The stench of salt and waste and molded wood rose up in phantom fumes.  _ Ah. Little Miss Rey. Come here. No. Here. Now. Don’t upset me again sweet one.  _ Rey felt her stomach roil and contract at the voice calling out to her from years that she thought she had long since buried. She screamed louder, her voice escaping in low whistles between the fingers of the hand locked across her mouth. Kicking now with all her might, she connected with her captor’s shins but all he did was give a low curse and pull her farther away from the Major. 

This wasn’t working. Rey squinched her eyes closed in frustration and anger, pushing past the vivid images of her past to the situation she was in now. She was a woman. Not the little girl on the ship. Distantly, she felt the shift of something in her leather boot—the coolness of metal pressing against her skin. Her knife. She had a knife in her boot; she just had to get to that somehow.  _ Little Miss Rey _ —with a growl of effort, some painful pressure, and a loud pop of her jawbone, Rey forced her mouth open enough to bite down hard into the palm of her captor. 

“Agh!” a voice yelped, the hand withdrawing rapidly. Rey spit out blood and thrashed harder against the loosened grip around her. 

“Major!” she screamed, her voice echoing explosively against the stone walls around them. 

“Not yet,” the voice hissed, dragging her back against his body. Rey's eyes widened. Simcoe. 

With renewed anger, Rey thrashed, freeing one arm out of his weakened grip. Forcing all her weight and energy into the movement, she slammed her elbow into his gut. A wheezing breath escaped him as she pushed forward out of his grasp and started running down the alley, reaching, in a mad scramble, for her knife. A scramble that cost her time.

Simcoe caught up and grabbed her arm, yanking her back. Rey flung a hand up, striking him in the side of the head. But all that accomplished was Simcoe yanking harder and off setting her balance. She hit the stone wall beside her with a loud crack that sent painful reverberations through her ribs. Gasping, Rey weakly pulled away but Simcoe growled and dragged her back. The skin of her cheek scraped roughly against the wall. She yelped in pain as warm blood began running in streams down her face.

With a successful grunt, Simcoe pulled her hands behind her back in one hand and put his other arm around her neck, holding her in place. “Christ, woman, I didn’t want to hurt you.” His voice was rough from exertion but lilted with a dark humor. “You have too much fight in you.”

“What do you want then?” Rey gasped out.

“For my life to be put back to rights. And there is only one person with the rank to do so.”

Realization struck Rey. “You want to use me as a bargaining chip.” She coughed out a laugh that pinched at her ribs. “The Major won’t play your game.”

“Oh, I rather think he will.”

“You’re greatly overestimating my value to him.”

“On the contrary, I think you are underestimating it,” Simcoe said, a smile creeping into his voice. “I will get my rank back and with it, Miss Wexley.”

“Anna?” Rey was appalled. 

“Yes, Anna,” Simcoe hissed in her ear, but at the name a softness entered his voice. It couldn’t be.

“You love her,” Rey gasped.

“Of course I do,” Simcoe growled, slowly but surely moving them deeper into the alleyway. “I’m no monster, Miss Niima. I never wanted to hurt her.”

“I think you should reevaluate your courting skills,” Rey spat, digging her feet into the ground to stop their movement. She wouldn’t allow Simcoe to take her to some hidden away place until he could trade her for a favor. Continuing to yank and pull, Rey prepared to cry out again but another yell cut her off.

“SIMCOE.”

Rey froze at the rage filled voice. Cold prickles ran down her body as Simcoe swung them around to face the entrance of the alleyway. There, in the waning sunlight, stood Major Ren, the red of his coat like hellfire against the dark rows of stone. Rey felt Simcoe tense against her as the Major made his way down the alley. Major Ren pulled out his pistol, the click of the hammer being drawn back echoing around them. Letting his grip on Rey loosen, Simcoe reached for his own gun.

Seeing the movement, Major Ren raised his pistol and aimed at them, the muzzle pointed just above Rey’s head. Simcoe stopped reaching for his own weapon and tightened his hold on Rey.

“Let’s talk, Ren. Perhaps we can come to an arrangement,” Simcoe called, angling them so Rey acted as a sort of shield between the two men. A bitter silence met his suggestion as Major Ren continued to make his way toward them. Rey’s breath came faster and faster the closer he moved to them. Even in the filtered light, she could see every detail of his face and it frightened her in ways she never thought she could be frightened. 

His face had hardened into sharp edged anger and his brow was furrowed in deep concentration but his eyes . . . it was his eyes that left her chilled to the bone. They were as empty as the day he had executed Wexley. There was nothing there but the icy void of a killer—his pupils blown so wide that his eyes were like pits of unending darkness. Rey knew in that moment that no matter what Simcoe said or did, he would not be leaving this alleyway alive.

And Rey knew she could not let that happen.

If Major Ren did kill Simcoe, he would be ruined—cast from the army as a traitor who would turn his own weapon on a fellow soldier. His reasons would be ignored, collaborated only by a lowly servant. It would destroy him. In that moment, Rey thought not of protecting herself but of protecting the man drawing near his own self destruction. 

Using Simcoe’s distraction to her advantage, Rey stomped her foot into his instep with a satisfying crunch. He cried out in pain, his grip loosening from her arms and from around her neck. Yanking free of him, Rey swung around and punched him across the face, preventing him from reaching for her again. With sharp, staccato movements, she dragged her knife from her boot and levelled it against his neck. Simcoe let out a shocked laugh. 

“Go. Now. While I still let you,” Rey said, digging the knife just deep enough to draw a sliver of blood. Simcoe let out a snake like hiss and gritted his teeth as he leaned closer to her.

“You don’t have it in you,” he seethed.

“But I do,” Major Ren said, moving forward, the muzzle of his pistol practically pressed against Simcoe’s forehead. Rey raised a hand.

“I’ve got this, Major, please,” she implored, trying to persuade Simcoe to take a step back and away from the Major with some pressure from her knife and a push of her hand. As if knowing what she was doing, Simcoe flashed her a smile and remained rooted in his spot, unafraid of his potential demise in the looming possibility of the Major’s own downfall. 

“Do you Major Ren? Have it in you that is?” Simcoe tilted his head. “It seems your emotions are getting the better of you, Sir. I wonder what General Snoke would think.”

“What would you know?” Major Ren growled.

“Major,” Rey said, fighting to keep a calm tone to her voice. “Please. Lower the gun.”

“I know what they all say behind your back.” Simcoe bared his teeth and a wide grin. “So emotional and volatile. Like a little boy who's had his favorite playthings taken away from him. Nothing like the soldier we all hoped you would be. You are too soft, Ren. Too broken and foolish to be beside General Snoke. You don’t deserve it and you never will.”

“That’s a lie.” Major Ren’s hand shook as he pressed the gun to Simcoe’s head. Rey tucked her knife back in her boot, giving away her upperhand to move to face the Major. A wild, untamed look had overtaken the empty void in his eyes. He was transformed from any version of the man she knew. 

With a hesitant step, Rey leaned into him, her hands coming to rest on his chest—the cool metal of his coat buttons pressed into her palms. His dark eyes flickered down to hers for a moment before returning to Simcoe. Below the layers of his clothes, she could feel the quick flickering of his heartbeat. “Major. Don’t listen.”

“Is it a lie?” Simcoe pressed, a sick victory in his eyes. “General Snoke has aired his . . . disappointments very freely amongst the men. His best prodigy soon to be his biggest failure.” 

Rey watched in horror as the damn in Major Ren’s mind shattered, a rush of emotions cascading across his face.  _ No.  _ She couldn’t lose him.

Without much forethought, Rey rose up on her toes and cradled the Major’s face in the palm of her hand, her thumb brushing softly against his cheekbone. “Kylo.” His name came to her breathlessly. Instinctively. Naturally. “Let go.”

She felt the warmth of his skin press gently against her hand as he turned to look at her. His eyes melted back to their dark brown—the animosity and pain drifting to a place hidden far below the surface. Rey gave a hiccup of relief when his released breath danced down her wrist. The Major reached up and placed his hand upon hers. 

“Ah,” Simcoe breathed sarcastically from behind them. “I knew you couldn’t do it. You’re as soft as a baby’s arse. Sn—”

Rey didn’t even see the Major move. It was all so quick: the shoving the pistol away, the stepping around her, and the crack of his fist slamming into Simcoe’s face so hard the man hit the wall beside him. Simcoe tumbled to the ground with a groan, only half conscious. 

“Major,” Rey admonished, reaching out a hand to steady herself against the wall. Her pain had rushed back to her ribs after all the adrenaline. 

“He deserves more than that, Miss Niima,” Major Ren whispered, turning to look at her. He raised his hand, his fingers tucking beneath her chin and angling her face to the side. “He hurt you.”

Rey pulled away. “I’m fine.” She could feel his gaze on her as she leaned past him to inspect Simcoe. “What do we do with him? Leave him?”

“No.” Major Ren shook his head. “I have a better idea.”

 

********

 

Simcoe landed with a thud in front of the barracks. Gasps and whispers surrounded Rey and Major Ren’s borrowed carriage as a fellow soldier ran out to lift Simcoe up.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Captain Rogers bellowed, his face a vibrant shade of purple. “Major Ren—”

Rey cut him off by turning on the hard bench of the carriage seat to reveal her blood-stained face—a warning of what she could announce to all the people gathered around them. Captain Rogers visibly gulped.

“Take Simcoe to the barracks. He leaves tomorrow,” Captain Rogers ordered.

With a satisfied click of his tongue, Major Ren flicked the reins and sent the horses trotting away, their minds and backs turned away from what would happen to Simcoe next.

The ride back to Raddus House was silent. It seemed that the day’s events were weighing heavy in their minds. Rey knew that she felt exhausted and confused. There were too many emotions all tangling together inside her. Most of which revolved around the Major. 

The carriage hit a pit in the road as they left town and turned down the lane surrounded by open fields. Rey gave a small gasp as the jolt sent a sharp bit of pain into her ribs. Major Ren’s head turned sharply in her direction, taking in how she was bracing against her seat.

“Almost there,” he murmured, his focus returning ahead.

By the time they rode up to Raddus House, Rey felt like all her bones had been jumbled about. Major Ren jumped from the carriage and called out for Finn, who ran out with wide eyes to grab the horses’ reins. Rey stood, her body bowed slightly forward to compensate for the ache. Her mind was trying to come up with a solution on how to get down when she felt the Major’s hands on hers. He guided them to his shoulders.

“Brace yourself while I lift you down,” he said, his hands moving to her waist. With all the gentleness in world, he placed her back on steady ground. Rey closed her eyes. Being this close she could smell the gunpowder on him mixed with pine and sweat and linen. He smelled wonderful. Her eyes flashed open at such a wanton thought. Her wonderment about where it had come from was cut off by Rose’s loud gasps as the Major and her made it inside.

“Miss Niima! Your face! What on Earth happened?” Rose cried, rushing forward in a panic. Abigail stood behind her taking everything in with calm eyes.

“I’ll explain later,” Rey murmured. “For now I’m going to rest.” She began to move toward her room, but the Major’s hand on her arm stopped her.

“Not yet,” he said, shucking off his coat. “Abigail, will you grab some spare cloth and a bowl of water with Calendula from the store room?” With a nod, Abigail left.

Rey looked over in surprise. “You know about Calendula?”

“Your botany books are quite handy.” He gave a small smile before guiding her to the sitting room. She sat on the couch with a deep sigh, flinching at the strain in her ribs.

“Are they broken?” Major Ren asked, sitting beside her.

Rey shook her head. “I don’t believe so . . . bruised most likely.”

“May I?” He nodded towards her side.

“Oh . . . um. Yes.” Rey blushed as he moved closer, his fingers skimming down her side, applying pressure here and there as he went. Rey felt a little out of breath for more than just one reason.

It had grown dark outside, the faint light of evening mixing with the recently lit candlelight. Major Ren was washed in a warm glow, the shadows of his face cast aside by the orange hues of the sun and fire. His gaze was downturned—focused—brows scrunched in thought while his touch danced across her ribs. After some hesitation he pulled away.

“Definitely bruised. Though it would be easier to tell without your corset . . .” He trailed off, a blush rising to his cheeks. Rey opened her mouth, ready to say something witty back but Abigail walking in cut her off.

“I have everything,” she said, setting the bowl and cloth on the coffee table. “I can tend to Miss Niima from here, Sir.” Abigail gave Rey a sideways glance. She wondered what that look meant.

“That’s quite all right, Abigail, I can do it.” Major Ren reached for one of the pieces of linen. Abigail’s gaze tightened a little but she merely curtseyed and left the room.

“Major, I can do it myself,” Rey protested. She reached for the cloth in his hand but he pulled it out of reach. With raised eyebrows, the Major dipped the linen in the Calendula tincture.

“You know,” he said, ignoring her. “We could have avoided all this if you had walked beside me.” Even though she could hear the teasing note in his voice, Rey huffed in annoyance. 

“Don’t you dare blame this on me,” she said, folding her arms petulantly. “It's your fault you’re so tall and walk much faster than me.”

Major Ren released an amused breath as he tipped her face to the side with a gentle press of his fingertips. The strong aroma of sweet sap filled Rey’s nose as he began to clean off the blood around the wounds. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched his lips twitch into a grin. 

“I am curious why you were adamant about that.”

Rey glanced away. “It wasn’t proper of me.”

“Not proper? To walk next to me?”

“Yes . . . like equals.”

“Ah. But aren’t there no roles between us?” His teasing was starting to sound more serious.

“This again?” Rey muttered.

“Funny, I was going to say the same thing.”

“I don’t understand why you are so insistent on there being no roles.”

Major Ren pulled away from her and dipped the cloth back in the tincture. When he turned back to cleaning up her face, he said, “Because roles limit us. How we speak. Who we engage with. How we see the world. I don’t believe in that, Miss Niima. And because I don’t, I get to learn more about you.” He smiled then—a pure and open thing. “I wouldn’t trade that for a place in polite society.”

Rey’s breath fluttered in her chest, catching in her throat. He liked being with her that much? She clenched her hands into fists. It didn’t make sense. “But the consequences—”

“I’ve never much cared for consequences, Miss Niima.” He paused to sit back and stare at her. “Would you trade my time with you for what is expected?”

The question froze her deep inside. Would she?  _ Could _ she? Her breathing sped up. When had the answer become so clear and so in opposition with what she was here for?

“No.” The answer came out quiet and surprised.

Major Ren ducked his head, staring down at his lap, biting his lip. He nodded once. Twice. “Good.” And then looked back up at her with warm eyes. “Does this mean you will walk beside me next time?”

Rey looked out the window to the graying sky. “Maybe.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Major Ren said. He raised the cloth to the scrapes on her cheeks, the linen dabing into the cuts. Rey hissed at the sting and tried to pull her head away but the Major caught her cheek in his hand, holding her in place. Rey stilled, the sting forgotten in place of the soft curve of his fingers sliding against her skin. She shivered. Major Ren’s darted to hers and then back to her cuts. “I’m sorry. This will only hurt for a second.” Rey couldn’t even find it in her to nod. 

He leaned closer to her, the candlelight tracing the lines of his eyebrows and lips and cheekbones into something that resembled his art rather than anything that could exist in their dim reality. Rey watched him bite at the inside of his cheek as he concentrated on cleaning out the last wound closest to her cheekbone. His eyes traced over the planes of her face with a gentle worry. For a brief moment, Rey found contentment in watching him. But then she saw beyond that worry for her to the thoughts no doubt troubling him. Eating at him. Rey reached up and held his wrist, pausing his movements. He looked over at her curiously.

“Don’t listen to Simcoe. You are much more than what he said,” she murmured, her thumb tracing his veins. A breath rattled from him and, even in the bright light of the sitting room, his eyes visibly darkened. With slow movements, his fingers moved from her cheek and tangled into her hair, pulling her just a little closer to him as if he couldn’t help himself. Rey’s breath caught. The Major’s eyes flickered to her lips.

“Your belief in me frightens me,” he whispered, looking back into her eyes. Rey felt trapped in that open and wondering gaze. His thumb brushed down the skin of her face and traced her bottom lip in slow, shaky patterns. Trembling, Rey leaned closer, unable to stop herself from falling towards him. Her mind felt as if someone had set it alight with want . . . a want that seemed to be mirrored in the shocked smile appearing on the Major’s face. “But it also makes me want to know more about you.” He laughed a little. “I wonder at the woman that carries a knife in her boot and can take on a man like Simcoe. The woman who loves trees more than flowers and who believes with her whole heart. Who believes in someone like me.” Major Ren tilted his head towards her. “Will you show me more?”

And like that everything shattered around her. The fire in her mind was blown out by a cold winter wind, leaving her bare and lost. _Will you show me more?_ Her past rose up like a ship in her mind and crashed upon the ocean of her thoughts sending a spray of water that transformed into a noose lowering above her—calling out to her: _Spy, spy, spy._ The kindness and want in the Major’s eyes morphed into hatred and disgust. 

Rey yanked away from his grip, shooting up from the couch with a painful gasp. 

“I can’t.”

“Rey?” Major Ren stood with her, confused at such a sudden change in demeanor. He reached out for her but she pulled away and dropped into a deep curtsey.

“I thank you, Major, for all your help. Now I will retire,” she said, moving past him, ignoring his call of confusion. She raced away from the warmth of the sitting room and into the dark cool of her room. Slamming the door behind her, Rey leaned against it with panicked breaths. She closed her eyes. What was she doing? What was this? Why had she reacted to him like that? 

The questions pounded at the doors of her mind but she couldn’t stand the echoes or the inaction of just listening. She had to do something. Anything. Her eyes flickered to her desk drawer.

Rey pulled away from her door and moved to sit at her desk. She lit the candle at her desk and yanked the stack of parchments from her drawer. With shaking hands, Rey smoothed out the copies of the Major’s letters. Even if it took all night, she would decode them. Major Ren could never know who she was . . . but she would do anything to know all his secrets. Anything. 

Rey looked out her window at the beginning winks of the stars, a phantom pain pulling at something deep inside her. And the questions began to knock once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! Until next time :D
> 
>  
> 
> [InfiniteBlackRose’s Tumblr](https://infinitelyblackrose.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> [A Spy’s Game Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5CynEFYJALjYPTcRBYPrKK)


	20. Kylo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> Thank you so, so much for all your comments and support on the last chapter! It was so fun to read through them all. I appreciate all the love this story is receiving.
> 
> This chapter is a bit simpler and shorter and from Kylo's pov.
> 
> Also . . . can I just say how much I loved that teaser trailer??! I can't stop watching it!

Kylo was drawing her again. But this time it wasn’t just her eyes or her hands. Drawn in careful and elegant lines of ink was her full portrait: hair falling out of her bun, face half turned to him with a small smile, eyes lit with her next teasing thought. With a sigh, he set his quill down and leaned back in his chair, taking in the morning light pooling around his bedroom. Last night felt years away from him.

He wasn't one for self-control but with Miss Niima he had tried. Truly, he had. But last night something had changed. He’d seen it in her eyes and gravitated towards it with no forethought or control. Kylo felt some regret.

Not for himself. No. The image of her haunted him now in the most beautiful way: candlelight bringing out the warm blush of her skin, her wide eyes caught between a burning need and sweet confusion, and the soft sighs and gasps that escaped her lips as he touched her—noises she seemed unaware she was making. Kylo’s portrait didn’t compare. It never could.

He stood sharply from his chair and paced to his window, overlooking the frost coated hill. The ice-tipped grass winked in the sunlight. Bright. Like her. Kylo closed his eyes, remembering the day they had hid behind the tree together. That was when he’d realized it was more than simple attraction but admiration. And more than need but want. Pure blissful want.

Miss Niima—no, Rey—was so bright and hopeful (to the point of foolishness as far as it concerned him) and he wanted more. More of her laughter and teasing. More of her quiet observations. More of her logical reasoning even if it intruded occasionally on their closeness. More of her stubbornness. More of how she saw the world. Just . . . _more_.

When Kylo was with her, he was happy. And he hadn’t been that in a long, long time. It was overwhelming being with someone who wanted to be with him just as much. It felt impossible. Terrifying, actually. But not enough for him to regret last night.

No. That twinge of regret was for her. For causing discomfort.

Moving from the window, Kylo stared down at his sketch of her. His fingers brushed the rough parchment, tracing the outline of her eyes. Rey glowed like a fire—all positivity and warmth. But he had also seen that deep sorrow and vulnerability that clung inside her. That loneliness that lingered like a shadow below a flame. He understood more than anything what it was like to have that always scratching from within.

Kylo was like an abyss filled to the brim with emotion and darkness. He knew deep down he wasn’t the person to sooth that part of her. But he wanted to try. Good God. He wanted to try more than anything. For her. But not by pushing her too fast into something he was barely discovering himself.

A knock pulled him from his reverie. “Sir?”

Kylo looked up from his sketchbook to see Finn peeking around his door. “Yes?”

His valet stepped into his room and made his way to Kylo’s side with the lightness of a man who was completely carefree. He must have come from seeing Miss Tico. Finn’s gaze caught on the sketch of Miss Niima, a knowing grin beginning to take root. With a dark sigh, Kylo snapped his sketchbook closed and folded his arms, staring at Finn with what he hoped was a stern gaze . “What is it, Finn?”

With a light clearing of his throat, Finn said, “You don’t have to hide such things from me, Sir. I won’t say anything to Miss Tico or to Miss Niima.”

“On the contrary, I think I do,” Kylo said, moving to face his mirror and straighten his shirt cuffs. “Or else you will keep giving me that look.”

“There is nothing wrong with the look I gave you,” Finn said. Kylo narrowed his eyes. “Sir.”

“I think you’ve gotten too comfortable with me.”

“Maybe.” Finn shrugged. “But you won’t replace me.”

Kylo lowered his eyebrows. “Oh? But what if I want to?”

“You know that I am the only valet that will willingly put up with you . . . Sir.”

“Saying Sir after everything doesn’t absolve you of what you said prior. You do know that?” Kylo scoffed, sitting on his bed to drag on his newly polished boots. “Now I really am considering replacing you.”

“Miss Niima wouldn’t like that very much,” Finn said, reaching for Kylo’s coat. “Sir.”

Kylo froze. “Finn.”

“Hmm?” Finn looked over at him with wide innocent eyes, holding up the coat as Kylo stood and slipped into it.

“You’re treading on thin ice.”

“You like my bluntness, Sir. It’s why you keep me around.” Finn came around to straighten his collar. With a final check, he nodded his approval and stepped away from Kylo.

“Why did you seek me out, Finn?”

“Actually, I have a favor to ask on behalf of Ro—Miss Tico,” Finn said. “Miss Niima is set on preparing your breakfast and continuing to run the household today. She refuses to rest no matter what we say and she is obviously not well enough to be moving around so much. Miss Tico thinks she’ll listen to you.”

Kylo released a breath and shook his head, muttering to himself: “Stubborn.” But he also couldn’t help but smile because . . . that was her, wasn’t it? “Where is she?”

“The kitchen,” Finn answered, moving aside so Kylo could pass and move into the hall. “And Sir?”

Kylo paused and turned back with a questioning look.

“I promise I won’t say anything about what I saw.” Finn nodded towards the sketchbook still lying on the desk.

“See that you don’t.” Kylo started down the hallway, his voice just loud enough for Finn to still hear. “I actually don’t want to find a new valet.”

 

********

  Kylo heard Rey before he saw her.

“I'm fine, Rose. Stop hovering about.” She sounded both exhausted and irritated as Kylo made his way to the kitchen doorway. “I need to work. No, I want to work.”

“You are in no condition to be standing up let alone be cooking.” Rose had her hands on her hips as Kylo came to stand in the doorway. Rey's back was to him, her hair wound in a messy bun. She was slightly bowed in compensation for whatever pain she was feeling in her ribs. “Abigail and I can manage just fine on our own. Go back to—Oh! Major!” Rose looked past Rey's shoulder with grateful eyes. Kylo watched with disappointment as Rey's whole body stiffened at the mention of him.

“Miss Tico.” He nodded a greeting towards her. “Miss Niima.” Rey slowly turned to face him, her eyes lowered to the ground as she curtseyed. Even in the dim light of the kitchen he could see the jagged, red cuts and roughed up skin of her cheek. Kylo tightened his fists in anger. He would kill Simcoe if he ever saw him again.

“Major,” she said softly.

“Perhaps you can talk some sense into her, Sir,” Rose said. “She should be in bed. Absolute madness her being up and about like this. Wish I could drag her there myself.” Miss Tico rolled her eyes and shook her head. Kylo could see why she was a perfect match for his valet.

“Rose,” Rey snapped quietly, her eyes, for a brief moment, flickering up to meet his. He revelled in the warm brown of her gaze.

“Miss Tico is right,” Kylo said. “You should be resting. Go back to bed, Miss Niima.”

“I am quite capable of doing my job, Sir,” Rey bit out, looking up at him with a fever in her eyes. Kylo rocked back on his heels considering her in amusement.

“And if I ordered you?” He couldn’t help the smile entering his voice. Kylo saw the fever turn into a wildfire.

“Ordered me?” she asked slowly, leaning against the high work table beside her for support. “After your speech about how roles are so wrong? How would that look, Major?” Kylo tilted his head as he took in the warring parts of her. He could hear in her voice that she was fighting to remain cool and contained, but there in her eyes was the enjoyment he always saw when they verbally spared. She couldn’t help herself and frankly, Kylo couldn’t either.

“Oh, Miss Niima, I never said I was a man of consistency. There are certain instances where I tend to forget exactly what my opinion was.” Kylo held up a finger. “Only when it’s convenient of course.”

“Is that so?” Ah and there was a small flash of a smile. “Then maybe, I too, am a woman who tends to be forgetful about such things. Wouldn’t that mean that I could forego your order in favor of having no such demands between us?”

“Yes. Of course.” Kylo rubbed at his chin. “However, that would mean that you concede to my previous opinion about the convenience of such roles not existing and then where would that place us in the future, Miss Niima? That’s, of course, not to say that I would be at all unhappy about being proven right in such matters. Even if it is only in this instance.”

He heard her angry drawing in of breath and the flash in her eyes as he easily out maneuvered her and transformed her witty and teasing reply into something far more serious and telling of what he actually wanted.

“I have not conceded such a thing. You are twisting my words and I will not be tricked into saying you are right.” She jutted her chin out defiantly. The spark of a challenge twisted her lips into a determined grin.

“You already conceded when you said you would walk beside me next time.”

At the mention of their conversation last night, Rey's expression shifted—hardened. “I said maybe, Major.”

Kylo let out a long sigh of exasperation, hoping she didn't see his flinch at her change. “Please go back to bed.”

She folded her arms, wincing a little. “No.”

“I am not ordering you,” Kylo said, his tone softening. He couldn't help stepping closer to her. “I am asking. And not as your superior but as your . . . friend. I care about your wellbeing, Miss Niima. Please, take the time to heal. Properly.”

And like that Rey’s hard and closed off gaze melted away, leaving her bare and open. Shakily, she released the work table beside her and tucked loose hair behind her ears, eyes locked on him. Her expression was a mixture of wonder and warmth; it took Kylo's breath away. He clenched his fists tighter and forced himself to remain rooted to the floor. God he wanted to touch her again. Ever since the previous night the impulse had grown stronger and this wasn't helping.

A small gasp of surprise forced Kylo away from the drumming need inside him. Rose’s attention danced between the two of them, confusion brightening her eyes. Awareness that their obvious intimacy had been witnessed crashed between them. A cold wall fell into place around Rey, cutting him off from what she was truly feeling. He was coming to understand just how good she was at that.

“Major--”

“Sir.” Finn stepped into the kitchen and interrupted Rey, sending her an apologetic look before facing Kylo. “He is here.”

A thrill of anticipation shot through Kylo at the news. Finally. “Take him to the study. I'll follow in a moment.” Finn nodded and exited the room, giving himself one last moment to smile at Rose.

“Miss Niima,” Kylo said, nodding to her. “Rest. Please.” Then he turned sharply from the room grateful for the distraction from the growing tension and unanswered questions left lingering behind him.

 

********

“Mr. Farnsworth.”

The man in the high back chair rose swiftly from the comfort of the cushions and gave a low nod. “Major Ren.”

He was not what Kylo had expected of a simple tradesman. David Farnsworth was young (barely past his adolescence it appeared) and, though there was a nervousness in his countenance and he wouldn't look Kylo directly in the eyes, there was an excited energy fizzling around him; his thatch of blonde hair seemed to even be quivering with it. Kylo smirked at his own observation.

“Please. Have a seat.” Kylo motioned towards the chair while sinking into his seat beside it. Farnsworth clumsily folded his lanky limbs in the floral patterned chair. “I suppose you are wondering why I've asked for you.”

“Anyone would wonder why Major Ren would be requesting their presence, Sir.” A slight shake entered his voice. Kylo leaned back in his chair.

“Are you scared of me, Mr. Farnsworth?”

A pause and then: “Yes.” Ah. He was direct. Kylo approved of that and that approval must have been felt in the air because Farnsworth sat up straighter and finally met Kylo's eyes. “Why am I here, Sir?”

Kylo folded his arms and assessed how to proceed next. “Your brother was tarred and feathered by the rebels, was he not?”

Farnsworth stiffened, his jaw clenching at the painful and intrusive question. “He was.”

“The rebels are such fickle people. All hope and want for freedom from tyranny. And yet, there are those among them who torture their fellow colonists for not agreeing.” Kylo shook his head. “It is quite unfathomable. Don't you agree?”

“Wholeheartedly.” Farnsworth’s face twisted into something half angry and half resolute.

“You are a Loyalist?”

“Yes, Sir. I will go to my grave defending my King and country.”

“This has become a dangerous world for you, Mr. Farnsworth. And not just from the rebels but from the strain of war.” Kylo leaned forward and tipped his head, studying the slow change of Farnsworth’s demeanor—the tensing around his eyes. “So hard to put food on the table . . . That is, unless, you are smart enough to make your own money.”

“I don’t know what you are referring to.” Farnsworth crossed his arms, the tensing in his features evaporating.

“I have many eyes here in York. Eyes that are well versed in catching counterfeiters.”

“Again, Major, I don’t know what you are speaking of. If you are accusing me of such a crime you can take it up with the magistrate. He can prove my innocence.”

Kylo raised his eyebrows. “Could he?”

“Most certainly.” Farnsworth lifted his head, assurance in his face. He was good. Too good. And exactly the kind of man that Kylo needed. The plan he had been working on for weeks was finally coming to a head.

“I know that you have created counterfeit money to feed your family. It is a noble reason and not something I’m looking to punish you for. So don’t pretend with me, Mr. Farnsworth.”

“Pardon me?” Shock broke through his mask of self preservation.

“I’ve been looking for a man like you for quite a while. I’ve brought you here to ask for your assistance.”

Farnsworth’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “If this is some sort of trap to make me admit to a crime, I won’t play that game with you, Sir.”

“You were direct with me. I respect that,” Kylo said. “I wouldn’t do you the discourtesy of not doing the same. I need your skills. Now the question is if you want to fire back at the rebels that hurt your family.

“I’m not in trouble? You swear it?”

“I swear on my honor. You are not in trouble. However, I would like to employ you.” Kylo leaned back, anticipation growing with each passing moment. “To make Continental currency.”

“Rebel money.”

“Yes. As much as possible.”

“Why?”

Kylo reached into the inside of his coat and pulled out a bag filled with money. Farnsworth’s eyes lit at the sight of it. “This job would pay you well if you accepted. But I would need you to swear to absolute secrecy. If you broke that trust, I would find you and your family. Is that understood?”

“It is.”

“You accept?”

“I do, Sir.” No hesitation.

“Good.” Kylo handed him the bag of money. The young man took with bright smile, the jittery thrill surrounding him once more. “I need you to make thousands of counterfeits and travel to towns around the rebel encampment in Middlebrook to begin flooding their markets with it.”

“Thousands?” Farnsworth’s eyes widened even more than Kylo had thought possible. “That will take some time to accomplish.”

“Recruit help if you have to. But be careful who you trust. This could change the tides of this whole war; we can't be careless.” Kylo took a deep and excited breath. “We will collapse the rebels from within, Mr. Farnsworth.”

The excited energy around him caught fire, burning a smile on the man's face. “Yes, Sir.”

“Congratulations. You are now an agent of the British Empire.” Kylo stood and Farnsworth followed. With a big grin, he reached out for a handshake, but Kylo took a step back. “There is one more thing I wish to ask of you before we come to an agreement.”

“What is that?”

Kylo smiled. “How would you feel about helping me catch some spies?”

 

********

 

Kylo led Mr. Farnsworth outside to the open deck of Raddus House, speaking to him in low tones about when they should next meet and how they should correspond. As he stepped out into the cold air of the late morning, Kylo was halted by the sight of Rey sitting on the long bench. She rose hastily from her seat and curtseyed before the two men, her eyes trained downwards. The morning light turned her hair into almost an auburn. Beautiful.

“Major.” Rey rose from the shaky curtsey with a bite of her lip, pain flashing in her eyes.

“Miss Niima.” He nodded once to her before returning his attention to Farnsworth, but the man was completely focused on Rey, his green eyes tracing over her. Kylo felt irritation crawl across his skin as interest pooled across the younger and handsomer man’s face.

“Good morning, Miss,” he said, bowing to her.

“Sir,” Rey replied sweetly with a small smile. Red flashed across Kylo’s eyes, blinding him. How could she smile like that? At him?  He let out a loud cough, drawing Farnsworth’s eyes back to him.

“Contact me soon,” Kylo said, the dismissal clear in his tone. Farnsworth looked at him wonderingly before bowing slightly.

“Of course.” He turned to  Rey with a lopsided grin. “Miss.” He gave her final nod before walking down the steps and mounting his horse too gracefully for someone with such gangly limbs. Yes. Gangly. Kylo gave him one last glare at his departure before turning his attention back to Rey.

“Why are you out here and not resting?”

Rey gave a loud sigh and sunk back into the bench. “Not you too.”

Kylo moved to sit beside her, hesitating for a beat before giving into his impulse to be near her. “It’s too cold.” He sat down only an arm’s length away.

“Ah. But it doesn’t have Rose and there is your reason for why I am out here.” Rey motioned to their frigid surroundings. “And not in there.” She tipped her chin towards the front doors beside them with a grim smile. “She was worrying over me too much. It was suffocating.”

“She has good reason to be worried,” Kylo said, resting his elbows on his knees.

“I am only bruised, not on my deathbed,” Rey scoffed, folding her shawl tighter around her.

“You are more than bruised.” Kylo took in the raw red of her cheek. Noticing his gaze, Rey angled away from him. “Have you used more of the Calendula?”

“What are you? My physician?” Rey muttered. Her question cut her short, memories of the previous night filled the empty space between them. Hands brushing against skin—care in each healing touch. An unreadable look crossed her face and made her turn farther away from him. Awkwardness clouded around them, evaporating the memories into a fine mist. Kylo sighed. How could they move beyond this? Would it now either be a rigid closed offness or an unending discomfort between them? Kylo didn’t think he could handle that.

“You looked relieved,” Rey said, breaking the silence. “Happy almost. When you came out with that man.”

“Did I?” Kylo asked, turning on the bench to face her, grateful that she had been the first to speak. Rey nodded, her gaze remaining on her hands. “I suppose I am relieved and happy. He is the key to my potential success—to winning the war. With him I can finally show General Snoke how capable I truly am. That his faith in me was warranted.”

He watched Rey’s lips pucker in the way they always did when he mentioned his mentor. It was distaste. Why she seemed to feel that way he couldn’t understand, but it was something he hadn’t wanted to push and, frankly, still didn’t. Not when things were . . . confusing between them. After a moment of consideration, she nodded. “Things will work out for you whether you have General Snoke’s approval or not.” He felt the bench shift as she drifted a little closer to him. His heart began to thrum louder in his ears. “I’m glad you are happy.”

Kylo gave a small nod of thanks and they fell back into the silence. What did he say next? Why was he suddenly so stuck with her? The sound of trees creaking in the wind filled his ears while the quietness of Rey’s breaths drove him near madness, the impulse to draw nearer—to touch her—growing with each passing moment. He squinched his eyes closed in frustration. How could he want that now even as he sat so tense and unsure of what to say or do.

“Aren’t you going to apologize? For last night?”

Kylo’s eyes snapped open. He heard it in the question: the teasing. His gaze slid to connect with her’s. A smile lingered in the swirl of her hazel eyes.

“Apologize?”

“Yes. Like always,” she said. “Like after the dinner with General Snoke. Though you seem less scared of me then you did back then.”

“Ah.” It came back to him then: the heady swirl of alcohol clouding his mind as his anger drifted away, the crash of glass across the ground, how he had clung to her like she was an anchor in an ocean of chaos, and the feeling of shame that came after acting upon such circumstances. That night had been different. He had been so lost in a false sense of intoxication . . . but now he knew. Now he knew what real intoxication felt like. “No.”

“No?” Surprise rang in her voice, her eyebrows arching elegantly. Kylo couldn’t help but lean closer to her, his hair ruffling in the breeze.

“I am sorry for making you uncomfortable.” Kylo paused. Took a deep breath. “But I won’t apologize for something that I can’t stop thinking about.”

Rey sucked in a sharp breath. Her eyes remained steady on his as shock rippled across her face. A pink blush bloomed across her cheeks and he saw it. It was small—barely noticeable really—but there in how she swayed slightly toward him, how her breath quickened and how she bit her lip: want.

And then it was gone. He watched her slowly grapple for composure, her gaze flickering across his face as if searching from some hidden meaning or lie in his words. Finally, like a mask, she forced herself to draw inward—her eyes distanced, her features smoothed, and she leaned back. A small smirk graced her lips.

“I miss the shy Major,” she said. “His blush was much easier to read.”

Kylo felt himself draw back as well. For a moment disappointment sat heavy in his gut. She was teasing him again but it wasn’t the same. In fact none of her teasing today was the same. Before it had been natural, but now it was anything but that. It was a defense against unfamiliarity. Rey was looking for what once was common ground between them—for stability—and attempting to recreate it through jesting with him. He understood why. Kylo knew what it was like to be scared of a change inside that seemed so wholly out of your own control.

And selfishly, that understanding gave him hope. It was a foolish hope and one he knew he shouldn’t act on. But . . . well, truly . . . he couldn’t hold back completely. Not with her.

“I feel it too,” he whispered, drawing her attention back to him.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she murmured.

“I think you do, Miss Niima.” Kylo rose from the bench then, forcing himself away from her. “And just as I will be here when you are ready to speak to me about your past, I will also be here when you discover that feeling.”

And then he turned and forced himself to return inside, leaving what he wanted more than anything in that moment on the cold wood of that bench.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Until next time :D
> 
> For fun, I just wanted to mention that David Farnsworth was real. He was both a British Agent and counterfeiter during the American Revolution. He was caught and hung by George Washington in 1778. Also, some revolutionaries (particularly those from Boston) did tar and feather Loyalists. Ah, war . . . there is always darkness on both sides.
> 
>  
> 
> [InfiniteBlackRose’s Tumblr](https://infinitelyblackrose.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> [A Spy’s Game Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5CynEFYJALjYPTcRBYPrKK)


	21. Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!   
> Super excited to share this chapter! Thanks for all your comments, kudos, and support! I appreciate it.
> 
> Also, a scene in this chapter is dedicated to @hawkofmay on Tumblr. You'll know why my friend!

Rey threw the crumpled letter to the floor with an exasperated cry. It hit the wood of her bedroom floor with a lackluster plop. Standing and untangling her skirts from their awkward twist, she paced to the window, arms wrapped around herself to hold in the dull ache of her ribs. Nothing was making sense. The letters that Rose had copied appeared on the surface to be dry and boring correspondences like those sent to a distant relative one begrudgingly wrote to. They were only given life by Rose’s elegant writing. But below their surface lay intel that she desperately wanted. No, needed. And they refused to give up their secrets. There was no invisible ink used (Rose had tested the letters while making copies) and so far Rey had been unsuccessful at breaking whatever cypher the Major was using.

She let out a frustrated sigh, her breath fogging the window, shadowing the dark, early morning sky. But her endless irritation wasn’t just about the letters. Rey closed her eyes and tipped her head back to look at the weathered ceiling of her room. It was also about him. 

Rey shivered against the cold and the phantom touch of his fingers threading through her hair.  _ I feel it too. _ Huffing out a laugh, she turned from her window. It was arrogance for him to presume he knew what she felt. Especially when she didn’t even know herself. What had happened between them that night was inexplicable and it, simply, couldn’t happen again. There was no point in contemplating it further.

And yet, he continued to intrude upon her thoughts: those dark, piercing eyes, his full lips nearing her own, the depth of his voice as he said her name, the constellations of beauty marks scattered across his face—a detail she had become painfully aware of lately. What was wrong with her? The answer should have been simple: it had been a chaotic and emotional day and they had been swept up. But shouldn’t the overwhelming feelings have faded by now if that was the case?

Rey shook her head and bent to retrieve the discarded letter. Unfolding it, she smoothed out the wrinkles and set it on her desk once more, the flicker of her single candle dancing across the words—taunting her lack of knowledge.

She hadn’t been able to figure out who the man was that the Major met with four days ago. She hadn’t been able to crack his correspondences. And she hadn’t been able to distance him from her inner most thoughts. With each passing failure, Rey began to desperately search for some solid ground.  And that desperation was made worse by Major Ren’s presence all around her. 

Whenever he entered a room, she felt the change—his gaze holding her in place—the warmth of his presence like a heady fog around her. But Rey knew he was trying. 

The Major had reduced his time near her, choosing to avoid her and give her space. It never felt like enough, though, when she knew he was only a room away from her at all times. Or when she had chosen to trace his steps around the house one day, hoping to pick up on details of his schedule or what books he was reading in case he was using one for his cypher. Her mission wasn’t allowing her time for clarity. 

Rey pulled up the loose floorboard beneath her bed and shoved the copies of the letters away. Reaching for her shawl in the wardrobe, she sighed. Rey hoped that a walk to town and speaking to Anna would give her a break from the ever claustrophobic feeling of being in Raddus House with Major Ren. It had taken all her willpower to force herself to stay in place even this long to allow her damned ribs to heal. Now she wanted to breath. Freely. And perhaps erase his gaze from her mind.

Quietly shutting her bedroom door behind her and avoiding the creaky floorboards in the hallway, Rey snuck out of the Raddus House—not once looking back. 

 

********

 

By the time Rey reached Anna’s house, the sun had risen above the horizon. It cast a dull yellow glow across the brick of the house as sounds of laughter, a piano playing and the clanking of dishes slipped from beneath the door and swirled around Rey. With a small smile of regret at interrupting their morning, Rey lifted her hand and knocked. 

It took a handful of seconds for the door to swing open and Anna’s bright face peered out. “Miss Niima!” She lowered the volume of her exclamation before turning around to call back down the hallway. “Emma! Fanny! I am going for a walk. I will be back soon. Make sure Edmund’s breakfast is ready.” Giggles and yells of acknowledgement followed Rey and Anna out the door as they made their way outside.

Anna looped her arm through Rey’s as she made her apologies. “I’m sorry that I pulled you away from your family so early in the morning.”

“This, I’m sure, is more important,” Anna replied, pulling Rey a little closer to her as they made their way through a spiral of cold wind and down the empty walk. “I believe it will snow in the coming days. And it won’t be just flurries anymore.”

“Yes. I think you are right.” Rey looked up into the gray of the sky before glancing at Anna. “You and your sisters seem happy.”

“We are for now,” Anna said, the smile on her face slipping a little. “It hasn’t been easy, especially on our mother, but our hearts are easing day by day. We found some small happinesses today that we didn’t have yesterday.” Her grip on Rey’s arm tightened. “I know you understand.”

Rey looked down at the hem of her skirts and their swaying movements as she took each step. She nodded. “I do.”

“Enough about me,” Anna said. “I heard about Simcoe from Edmund. How are you?” Rey saw Anna look over her from the corner of her eye. 

“Bruised ribs. But I’m fine.”

“More than that I’d say from the state of your face,” Anna whispered, concern wrinkling around her eyes. Rey reached up and brushed against the wounds that had already begun to disappear, leaving only some red chafing behind. 

“I’m healing. What matters is that Simcoe is gone from our lives.”

“Yes.” It came out in a relieved sigh. “He is.”

They walked along the storefronts in a companionable silence for a time, the comfort of being in fresh air and with Anna lulling Rey into a sense of peace. That is until Anna brought her attention back to why she was there in the first place 

“What news have you brought me?” she asked lowly, avoiding a couple of servants walking past them in the opposite direction, their clothes and faces weathered from long hours of work. Rey’s thoughts hooked on the image of the Major's lips curled in victory as he led that unknown man from Raddus House. She sighed. Peace could not last for her. Not now.

“Major Ren spoke with a man I did not recognize a little over four days ago,” Rey whispered. “He told me of his confidence in changing the tides of the war. The Major has planned something with this stranger but I was unable to listen in.”

“This man . . . Is he from York?”

“Yes. He had a York accent. I am unsure of the exact plan the Major is setting in motion, but I do know that he knows of our network. Whoever this man is, he must be acting as eyes in town for the Major.”

Anna looked over with a worried gaze. “What does he look like?”

Rey tipped her head. “Tall. Long limbed. He has blonde hair and is quite young. Around my age I think.”

“I am unfamiliar with anyone that looks like that,” Anna said. “I’ll keep a look out and let the others know. We will be more careful now that the Major has more than one informant in York.”

“He has someone already?” Rey was surprised. It seemed as though the Major had very few allies (if any) here in York. None which visited him. Rey would have known.

“We believe it’s the Madam of the brothel here in town. Bazine,” Anna said, glancing around them. They were far away from any other person. “I think she is the one who informed on my father but we have no proof. We haven’t been able to get a girl on the inside and all the women there are staunchly loyal to Bazine.” 

Rey felt something coil inside of her. A Madam? Of a brothel? A flash of irritation rose up in her. “Does he visit her often?” 

“Often enough for us to notice,” Anna said, looking over at her curiously before glancing down at Rey’s hand. Realizing that she had clenched her hand into a fist, Rey released it with some embarrassment. What had that reaction been? “Fortunately he only ever meets her outside the brothel so we were able to figure out who the informant was early on. It hampers us being able to listen in though.”

“He never goes inside?” Rey felt her irritation dissipate.

“No. Never.” Anna cocked her head to the side, an unreadable look in her eyes. Rey turned to hide her relieved expression.

“I see. I could follow him one day and—”

“Too dangerous and unnecessary,” Anna said dismissively. “We already have a man that is beginning to build a relationship with Bazine. We are hoping to find out more over time.”

“I see.” Rey nodded. “Yes. That’s good then.” She kept her gaze ahead, her mind wandering to things she had never considered thinking about. The Major never went inside. Why? Wouldn’t most men want to visit a woman who was . . . worldly? But he was different from most others—

“Miss Niima?”

“Hmm?” She turned to look at Anna, trying to clear her face of any residual thoughts.

“Are you all right? You seem out of sorts.” Anna’s wide, brown eyes studied her.

“Oh . . .” Rey reached up to anxiously tug at the neckline of her dress. The truth was best.“To be honest . . . I’m overwhelmed.”

“Overwhelmed?”

Rey took a deep breath through her nose. “I am trying to decode the Major’s letters and I keep hitting dead ends. And now we have no idea who this man is or what the Major’s plans are. And everyday I’m feeling more and more confused about—” Rey stopped herself short, biting her lip. 

“About Major Ren?” Anna finished softly. With a wrinkled brow, Rey looked at Anna with confusion. The woman shrugged, crinkling her forest green dress. “I can tell. I was the same way with Hewlett for a time.”

“My situation is not the same,” Rey protested, a blush threatening to bloom across her face. 

Anna waved her free hand in dismissal. “No. Not our relationship. Before that, when I was merely a spy living with a British soldier.”

“Oh.” Relief coursed through Rey.

“Soldiers risk their lives everyday on the battlefield, Miss Niima,” Anna said, guiding them past the cobbler’s brightly painted shop and around a loop in the walkway that sent them back in the direction of the Wexley’s home. “But spies do too. And more. We are the ones that must live silently among our enemies and because of that we grow to know them and understand them better. They become human to us in a way that a soldier can never know. For them, the enemy is simply someone who runs towards them with a bayonet and a promise of death. It’s only natural to feel confused about the closeness that is developing between you and the Major, just as it is necessary.”

“Necessary,” Rey breathed, finding both comfort and fear in the thought.

“Quite. The closer we are to the enemy—the more intimately connected—the less they suspect us.”  Anna’s words came out cold and sad, a distance coming to her eyes.

“How does your affection for Hewlett not get in the way?” Rey asked, turning her head from the blinding light of the rising sun. 

“I don’t let it.” Anna lifted her chin. “I love my country as much as I love Hewlett. Even if that constant balance exhausts me,  I can’t deny my feelings for him—I tried that and it nearly destroyed me—but neither can I deny my duty.”

“It seems . . . impossible.”

Anna laughed sharply. “Some days it does. But I’ve accepted my feelings for what they are. And Hewlett chose to serve in the army because he thought it was his duty, not for ideological reasons. That gives me hope that, at the end of all this, he will forgive me.”

“Anna,” Rey murmured, her heart breaking for the future that may not come for Anna Wexley and Edmund Hewlett. With a light tug, Anna drew Rey to a stop.

“You must promise me something,” she murmured, looking at Rey with a pleading gaze. “Please, do not tell anyone—Leia or Dameron—about Hewlett. They will think I am compromised but I am not. This revolution is my life. It was my father’s life. I will not abandon it, not even for Hewlett.” A teary film entered her eyes. Rey swallowed.

“How can you promise such a thing? If something happens where you must choose—”

“That already has happened.” Anna’s gaze hardened. “I did my duty.”

“What do you mean?” Rey drew back from the intensity of her words.

“You did not hear? Captain Rogers is marching out tomorrow.” Anna looked at her pointedly. “To Little Egg.”

“Little Egg,” Rey breathed, understanding dawning on her.

“Jarek made it back two days ago. He passed the dropsite twice to ensure the information was passed along.” Anna began walking again, her eyes remaining straight ahead. “Hewlett is going with them. They don’t know they are walking into a trap. And still I did not say a word.”

Rey tightened her grip around Anna’s arm. For a moment she couldn’t find the words. “Miss Wexley . . . I am sorry.”

Anna shook her head, her dark hair starting to fall out of its elegant twist. “Don’t be. He will come back to me. He has too.” 

“Miss Wexley—”

“He has to.” Her tone was final. Rey pulled Anna closer to her.

“Of course.”

With a sharp nod, Anna wiped away the beginning of her tears and attempted a smile. “We have one of the hardest jobs of the war, Miss Niima, but we are stronger for it.”

“Yes,” Rey agreed. It took strength to make such a choice. It was one that Rey did not envy. 

Anna patted Rey’s arm. “And don’t worry about the rest of what is overwhelming you. It takes time to decode British cyphers and, as far as the Major’s man, you did the right thing in telling me. We will figure out their plans together.”

“Together.” Rey smiled even though the change in conversation was an obvious distraction from the choice Anna had made and the haunting thoughts of its possible outcome—one she could never truly foresee. 

 

********

 

Rey took a steadying breath and opened the heavy wooden door to Raddus House, wishing she could stay just a little longer beyond its ever shrinking walls. Deep in her own thoughts about Anna and the Major and the letters, Rey stepped inside and nearly crashed into Finn—the flash of his navy coat catching her eye as she came back to reality. “Oh!”

“Miss Niima!” Finn slid out of the way with a big grin. He hid a hand behind his back.

“I’m sorry, Finn,” Rey said, stepping back from him and straightening her dress. “I didn’t mean to almost trample you.”

“Oh, you could never trample me,” Finn laughed. “I am like a boulder: reliable, unchanging, and strong . . . especially in matters of the heart.” He patted his chest with his unhidden hand.

“Is that something you’ve used on Rose?” Rey teased, crossing her arms. 

A twinkle sparked in Finn’s eyes and he put a finger to his lips. “Shh. Don’t tell her I used it on you too.”

Rey shook her head animatedly. “No. No, of course not.” They shared a warm laugh together that left Rey feeling a little bit lighter than she did when she had first walked in. “Thank you, Finn.”

“You looked like you needed some cheering up,” Finn said warmly as his hand slipped a smidge to his side, revealing the a tip of a green leaf and a flash of purple petals . . . African Violets that she knew grew in the small planter her and Abigail had placed in the study at the Major's request.

“Did you steal some of my flowers?”

The splash of violet disappeared once more behind his back. Finn widened his eyes innocently.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Rey grinned. “I think you do. It’s no matter. If they are for Rose, I approve. But—” She held up a finger.  “She will know where they came from.”

An loud sigh escaped Finn as he raised the small gathering of violets before him, the bright color clashing with the dark wool of his coat. “I didn’t know what else to get her. And it’s ridiculous, I know, but I wanted to give her a gift before we leave. Its my first time parting from her since . . .” A secretive smile grew on his face. “Either way. I want her to think of me while I’m gone. Even if it is only for a little while. And . . .”

The rest of his words were lost in the ringing of Rey’s ears.  _ Leaving.  _ Her mind hooked on that single word and repeated it over and over again until it seemed unrecognizable.

Leaving.  _ Where?  _ The question was like a dam breaking, releasing the incessant mantra of her thoughts. It allowed her to return to the moment and see, once again, Finn’s jovial face.

“Leaving?” Rey murmured, all the cheerfulness gone from her manner.

Finn trailed off, his smile fading at her sudden seriousness. “Yes.”

“The Major is leaving?”

“Yes . . . both of us are riding out tomorrow.” Finn motioned towards the ground beside the staircase. Turning to look, Rey saw filled saddlebags tucked against the lower banisters, unnoticed until now. “I suppose Major Ren hasn’t gotten around to speaking to you about it. We just received the news ourselves.”

“Where is he?” Rey looked up from the bags, feeling her pulse begin to flutter in panicked beats and her stomach drop at the thought of what his leaving might mean.

“Oh, um.” Finn’s words took on a confused lilt. “Maybe in his room? I'm not sure . . . Wait! Miss Nimma, what's wrong?”

Rey didn't hear him as she raced up the staircase, every other step creaking loudly under her footfalls, her ribs pulsing in time with her breaths. She half slid to a stop before the warm oak of Major Ren's door and, without hesitation, knocked. No answer. Forgetting all sense of decorum, Rey swung his door open to reveal an untidy and empty room. With very little thought, besides the impulse to find the Major, Rey pivoted around and made her way back downstairs.

Finn was gone—most likely looking for Rose and brushing off Rey's crazy and illogical behavior. Behavior she was unsure of herself as she headed to the study, the only other place she could imagine him being.

Rey knew he was there the moment she entered the room. She could hear the quiet tread of his boots across the old floorboards and the snick of book pages being flipped. Winding through the high bookshelves, Rey found him pacing in the back corner beside the two high back chairs, his finger rubbing back and forth across his lower lip as he read his favorite book of poems by Bradstreet. The little box of violets sat on the windowsill behind him, a small clump of them obviously missing. Sunlight pooled through the petals and caught in the Major’s unbound hair, the dark curls reaching the collar of his coat.

Rey made her way toward him, the rustling of her skirts drawing his attention to her. “Miss Niima.” The surprise in his eyes morphed into concern, his gaze shifting beyond her, looking for whatever had chased her into the room in such a panicked state. The Major set his book down on the round table between the chairs and met her halfway. “What's wrong?” he asked, starting to reach a hand out to her before thinking twice and drawing back.

“You're leaving.” Rey’s voice came out breathless and shaky. Shock flickered in his eyes, his brows wrinkling in confusion.

“I am,” he said slowly, lowering his head to meet her eyes more directly. “What's the matter? Whatever it is I can—”

“Where?” The question burst from her in a frantic mix of fear and need.

“What?” Major Ren pulled away a little, his shock aimed at the intensity of the question.

“Where are you going?” Rey took a step closer to him, his broad shoulders blocking the sunlight dripping from the window behind him, casting her in shadow.

“New Jersey,” he said. 

Rey’s blood ran cold.  _ Little Egg.  _ She forced herself to ask her next question. “Why?” Turning her focus to the floor, she hoped for a different answer then the one clinging to her mind.

She felt Major Ren's eyes trace over her face quietly before he replied. “General Lee has agreed to meet with me. I'm proposing that the army not move our offense to the Southern Colonies.”

Relief crashed through her like a tidal wave. Rey’s held breath escaped her in a loud sigh. Not Little Egg. He wasn't going with Rogers’ men into an ambush. He was safe. She looked up to find the Major staring at her, waiting for an explanation for such odd behavior.

Embarrassment immediately replaced her relief, drawing heat to her face in unflattering waves. Stupid! Irrational! Her reaction had been dramatic and unnecessary. Of course an intelligence officer wasn't marching out with the rest of the men. And even so . . . what right did she have to be so . . . so distraught over a British Officer?

Major Ren's patient silence and gaze were like heavy weights against her skin. The crushing feeling drove her a step back. “Yes. Of course,” she muttered, looking behind her for escape. “Good . . . Well, then . . . I'll take my leave.” Giving a hurried curtsey, Rey fled between the back bookshelves, the scents of binding and paper chasing her.

“Miss Niima!” Major Ren called after her. His footsteps echoed behind her as he rushed to catch up. Rey made it to the opposite corner of the room—where the dark wood paneling of the walls met, the bookshelves blocking the space from the light of the far window—before the Major grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop. She felt the rough fabric of his coat against her cheek as she fell against him. At the sudden contact between them, Rey roughly yanked away, her back pressed against the wall behind her. Even in the shadows, Major Ren’s eyes glimmered with vibrancy as he studied her. “What’s wrong?” 

“I was mistaken. It was nothing,” Rey murmured, looking away.

“No.” Major Ren’s voice took on a soft pleading quality. “It’s not nothing. Please. Don’t run away. Tell me.”

Rey’s eyes flickered up to meet his. He gave her an encouraging nod, his hair brushing along his collar. And he was worrying at his lips again, the concern evident in even that smallest of mannerism. Rey tried to take a step forward—to move around him—but found that her feet were fastened to the floor below her. Embarrassment prickled against her skin like needles. But . . . she couldn’t lie. Not now.

“It was a misunderstanding,” Rey started, her words halting awkwardly.

“Yes?” The Major stepped closer until it seemed that he was all Rey could see.

“I . . . I heard in town that Captain Rogers’ men were marching out and . .  and I thought . . .” Rey couldn’t finish. 

“You thought?” As soon as the question left his lips, understanding brightened Major Ren’s eyes. “Oh.” That single word was said with quiet shock. Rey watched silently as that shock morphed into something warmer . . . almost happy. “You were worried about me.”

“Of course I was worried,” Rey said indignantly, finding no comfort in his seeming pleasure at her expense. “That’s a rational response to hearing—”

“Ah. Yes, rational,” Major Ren said, puckering his lips in contemplation. “But I do question that worry. Do you have so little faith in my fighting abilities that your first assumption is that I wouldn’t make it back?”

“I—What?” Rey asked, flustered at the change in direction. A smile was growing in those infuriatingly brown eyes of his. “I may be embarrassed by my reaction, but surely this is not a laughing matter, Major Ren.” She shook her head in frustration as she spoke, a lock of hair falling into her eyes and catching in her lashes. The Major took another step closer, the toes of his boots nearly brushing against her hem. Rey stiffened at his closeness.

“No. You’re right,” he said, reaching up to tuck her hair back, his thumb brushing against the her ear. He stared intently at her, seriousness reclaiming his features. “It’s not.”

Rey’s breath caught in an almost audible hiccup. “Major.”

“Rey.” The way he said her Christian name sent warmth down her spine. He swayed toward her. “I wanted to say—”

His words were cut off by the study door opening loudly, followed by giggles and voices rising and falling in happy tones. Both her and Major Ren froze, his hand reaching out to brace against the wall beside her as if he was suddenly unbalanced. 

“You put them back, Finn!” Rose laughed. The soft pad of her slippers wove through the farthest bookshelves, making their way towards the chairs in the back corner and the small planter on the windowsill. Finn’s heavier tread followed behind.

“I can’t put them back now,” Finn laughed, his voice carrying above the bookshelves. “I already cut them.” Ah, the violets.

“You can try.” Sass tinted the statement.

Finn snorted. “Try the impossible you mean.”

“Yes.”

Rey heard the loud rustle of skirts and a sharp, surprised laugh. “I think this was all a ploy, Miss Tico.”

“Oh, do you?”

“Yes. To get me alone with you.” 

“Maybe it was.” The giggles turned into loud squeals. Rey’s eyes widened in shock and she looked to the Major for his reaction. His own expression was twisted in discomfort and surprise. No, not surprise. He was aghast.

The mix of Major Ren’s face and the events unfolding just a few bookshelves away were too much for Rey. She pressed her fingers to her lips, trying to hold in her laughter at the absurdity of the situation they found themselves in . . . again. Catching the movement, Major Ren’s eyes locked on hers and she saw him remember their time hiding behind that tree, avoiding this same thing. A smile twitched at his lips. 

But, the moment quickly turned into something different. Something far too intimate for them to witness. The giggles and teasing transformed into the quiet press of fabric against fabric, quickening breaths, and the soft noises that came from lips meeting. Major Ren and Rey stared at each other in horror before she hesitantly glanced past his arm to find Rose in Finn’s lap, her skirts flowing over the chair they were in, oblivious to their audience hidden away in the shadows. Rey looked back to the Major to find his face warmed by an intense blush—one not even the dim light could hide from her. 

Rey nodded her head in the direction of the study door with a questioning look, but Major Ren shook his head. His eyes told her everything. They would make too much noise and, they too, were in a compromising state. One that Rey was becoming more and more aware of by the second. He moved closer to her—the hand pressed against the wall beside Rey’s head slid down the wood until his thumb was barely touching her shoulder. Gulping, Rey pushed herself closer to the wall, trying desperately to create distance between them. Major Ren kept his gaze above her head, his breaths echoing loudly in her ears and weaving through her hair. 

But it wasn’t enough to drown out the sounds coming from across the room. The quiet noises were getting louder. Moans filled the space and lingered obscenely around them. And heavy breathing matched in tempo to the creak of the chair as bodies tried to fight their way closer. Now it was Rey’s turn to blush—flames crawling their way up her face. How was she to look at Rose or Finn again after this? Or . . . Lord. Or the Major? Thinking of him, Rey glanced up to find his eyes squinched shut, his face contorted into something that looked like he was experiencing excruciating pain. All of it was ludicrous. So ludicrous that a low snort escaped her before she could stop it. 

Major Ren’s eyes flashed open. Hunching in closer to Rey in an attempt to hide entirely in the shadows, his forehead nearly came to rest against her own. A sharp intake of breath escaped her lips, muffled by the the continued noises of Finn and Rose lost in their own moment—unaware of what has happening behind them. Darkened eyes met hers. His own breathing quickened, gooseflesh raising across her skin as it brushed over her. This was the closest they had been since that night. And both of them knew it.

Rey shivered.

The moans and breathing and creaking of the chair still surrounded them, but now it seemed almost muffled to Rey—distant in a way that left her feeling separate from everything but him. Biting his lip, Major Ren closed his eyes, his face tensing. Rey wondered at that change before he released an exhausted sigh and his forehead came to settle against hers—his black hair falling like a curtain around them. Her lips parted in a silent gasp as his eyes fluttered open, his pupils so dark and so large that they seemed to swallow his irises. 

“Rey.” Her name was said so quietly that she knew it couldn’t be heard by anyone else but it sounded so loud and so desperate to her. The warmth that had tangled around her spine coiled deeper in her stomach, heating her from within as if she had just downed the richest brandy. His hand moved from the wall to press against her shoulder, the ruffling of his coat sending up his scent. Pine and sweat and linen. Rey breathed in its heady fog, her eyelids lowering at the sweet tang of it. And her restraint snapped.

_ More.  _

It was the call that she had heard in her mind that night on the couch and the day they sat on the porch together. Before she had enough space and clarity to temper that inner voice, but now she was caught between a wall and the warmth of his body, the sounds of passion ebbing around them. And . .  and she did want more. God. She hadn’t stopped wanting more since he had touched her that night. His fingers on her waist and in her hair and on her skin. Rey blinked, lost in a place inside herself that she had never been. That she hadn’t known existed and that she couldn’t find the words to describe.

“Kylo.” Her voice didn’t sound like her own. And her hand didn’t feel like her own as she reached up to caress his face, to pull him closer and—

“Finn. Let’s take this somewhere else.” 

Major Ren went rigged at the sound of Rose’s voice, but Rey seemed to barely hear them, her hand stuck in midair—her fingertips so close to tracing the mysterious patterns of his beauty marks.

“No. Stay!” Finn protested.

“We’ll be caught if we keep this up,” Rose giggled. 

“The Major and Miss Niima, I’m sure, are distracted by their own goodbyes. Come on, Rosie,” Finn pleaded.

“I never said I wanted to stop,” Rose said. “But let’s go to my room, hmm?”

Rey distantly heard the soft creak of the chair and footsteps padding through the bookshelves and the light snick of the door, but her attention remained on the Major, whose gaze had never left hers. At the final click of the door, he blinked as if awakening from a dream. Rey felt the change between them long before he began to pull away from her—his eyes returning back to normal. To reality. But it wasn’t what Rey wanted. Not at all. Not when she could stay. Here.

Feeling his warmth slipping away, Rey reached out and grabbed the edges of his coat and dragged him back to her, her face pressing against the clean, white linen of his shirt. Feeling off kilter and so unlike herself, she breathed him in. 

“Miss Niima?” He hadn’t said her Christian name. It stung for reasons she could not say. Rey shook her head, some of her hair catching in the cold metal of his buttons. 

“What is this?” she whispered. “What is this feeling?” Rey tilted her head to look up at his wide eyes. “Tell me.” She knew she was pleading. But she didn’t care. She had to know—to understand. 

“Miss Niima.” His tone softened. With slow movements, Major Ren rested his hands on her shoulders, steadying her. He was avoiding her question. But Rey was inquisitive and persistent. 

“Why do I want you closer?” Rey fell back against the wall, taking the Major with her. His hands smacked loudly against the wall on either side of her head as he lost balance. Rey reached up then, her fingertips tracing the curious trails of marks on his face until she settled on cupping his cheek in her palm. The Major’s breath stuttered. “Why do I want to touch you?” Her thumb grazed the sharp edge of his cheekbone.

“Rey.” Major Ren’s pupils dilated, the darkness overtaking the light of his eyes. He leaned into her hand and pressed his lips to her inner wrist. Rey’s eyes fluttered closed at that smallest touch.

“Why does it feel so good when you say my name?” she whispered, opening her eyes to take in his hungry face—the one she saw when he had tended her wounds. 

That question was the breaking point. Major Ren fell into her, his body pinning her to the wood of the wall. His hands shakily trailed down her sides, caressing her waist until one arm wrapped around her and pulled her to him. The Major’s forehead fell against hers, his breaths coming faster and faster. Rey reached up and tangled her fingers through his hair, finally feeling its silkiness for herself. A low groan rumbled between them.

“You are going to be the death of me,” he murmured, moving his nose along her hairline, breathing her in. 

“Tell me.” Rey lowered one hand to his chest, pressing against the layers of clothing to find the pulse of his heart. “Tell me what this is.” 

Major Ren tipped his head and brushed his lips against her temple. “You already know.”

“No,” Rey gasped, slightly out of breath. “I don’t.”

“You do.” The words were pressed to the shell of her ear, his teeth grazing its sensitive edge. Rey shuddered and moved her head, her lips searching for his.

“Please, Major.”

She wasn’t sure what caused it: slipping back into his title or the pleading quality of her voice, but Major Ren suddenly yanked away from her—distangling them from their shadowy corner. He took two large steps back into the pool of sunlight now stretching across the back bookshelf, his hair ruffled and messy from her fingers. They both were panting and attempting to regain their footing in whatever reality they had now stepped into. 

Rey felt the pain and shock of the sudden separation—the rejection of it—like a dull pang in her side. “Major?”

Major Ren shook his head, his chest heaving. “Not like this.”

“What . . . what do you mean?”

“Find me again, Miss Niima, when you know the answers to your questions.” And then he was gone, the study door slamming loudly behind him. 

Rey reached out for the wall to steady herself. What had just happened? What was that? What had she just done? The questions continued to pile higher and higher in her mind, the only thing cutting through them was the shame of her impropriety and unspeakable actions.

Without the heat of his body near hers and without the softness of his voice, she could once again think clearly—to her own dismay. Half confused and half hurt, Rey stumbled to her room, seeking privacy and solitude to contemplate what she was feeling.

She was turning the doorknob when a voice stopped her.

“Miss Niima.”

Rey looked up to find Abigail staring at her.

“Yes?” Rey asked shakily. 

“A letter came for you. Its urgent.” Abigail held the sealed envelope out to her. 

“Oh. Thank you.” Rey took it from her and without a backwards glance, shut her door.

The writing was Poe’s. She would know his hand anywhere. In a blur of slow movements, Rey lifted her floorboard, powdered the letter for invisible ink, and collapsed in her chair before her desk and mirror. Her eyes read and reread the short message.

_ Tomorrow. Late Morning. Same place as last time. _

_ Poe. _

His timing was impeccable. The Major would be gone just in time for her to speak to Poe. Perhaps he could give her guidance—set her back on the path she had thought she understood when she had taken this job. 

Rey looked up at her reflection in the mirror, her pale, freckled face staring back at her. Who was she?

That—more than any other question today—frightened her the most, because after today—after throwing herself at a British Officer—she wasn’t so sure anymore. And then, frighteningly, she began to wonder if Anna had felt the same with Hewlett.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Until next week!
> 
> [InfiniteBlackRose’s Tumblr](https://infinitelyblackrose.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [A Spy’s Game Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5CynEFYJALjYPTcRBYPrKK)


	22. Unraveling Secrets Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> Sorry for the wait. Had a bad case of writer's block.   
> This is actually only part of the chapter I wanted to put up, but I was having trouble with the second half. I will continue working on that and will have it up Sunday!   
> This is more of a plot heavy chapter, but I will say this . . . the secrets are only beginning to unravel . . .

The frost-crusted grass crunched under Rey’s feet as she made her way to Old Ben’s Barn. Sunlight drizzled its way through the clouds, casting a gray hue on the world around her. It was perfect for the mood she was denying she was in. 

By the time Rey had woken up, the Major and Finn had already left, forgoing breakfast for an early start. A pang had gone through her at the knowledge of their departure (though she was slowly convincing herself it was just her ribs after . . . well, after her activities yesterday). 

Rey felt the uncomfortable heat of embarrassment claw up her skin. The things she’d said and done had come back to her in vivid clarity the moment she’d opened her eyes this morning—the shame of it lingered in the dark corners of her mind even now—and she had wanted to pull the covers over her head and disappear once more into the relief of sleep. She hadn’t been herself yesterday and had hoped to address such an egregious breach of decorum with the Major. But now it was too late. It would remain unresolved until he returned.

Unresolved and ever present—flashes of heat and skin and the Major pulling away crashed through her thoughts at the most inopportune moments. Like at the moment Rey pushed through the low branches of winter-bare trees to see the tilting wood of the barn. Poe’s horse looked up at her from a far tree with a curious gaze before returning to its search for some thawing grass. A brief wish to be a horse and live a simpler life rose up in her. It was a fact that horses didn’t have to worry about British Majors in fancy red uniforms.

Rey shoved that wish and the memories from yesterday to the side. She couldn’t meet Poe like this: so frustratingly and emotionally unbalanced. Besides, there were more important things than contemplating her irrational behavior. She had questions for Poe. Questions that would give clarity as to what part she was truly playing in the operations there in York.

Giving it a light shove, the door of the barn opened with a whining creak. Rey lifted her wool skirts and stepped into the dim building, light forcing its way through the cracks of the wood walls. Poe was sitting on some crates in the far corner. He looked up from picking at a loose thread on his weather beaten coat to smile at her.

“Rey.” He jumped down from the crates and, with a confident stride that could only be described as being Poe Dameron’s, met her in the center of the dirt covered floor. Rey felt a smile grow on her lips. It was a relief seeing someone who reminded her of a time before Raddus House—someone who was untouched by the happenings around her. 

“Poe.” Rey could see that, while his expression was cheerful, there was exhaustion hidden in the lines around his eyes and lips. Things were not going as well as Rey had hoped. Poe embraced her in a tight hug before stepping back to take her in.

“You are alive and well,” he said with a smirk.

“You doubted me?” Rey folded her arms. 

“Only a little.” A wink and a laugh couldn’t hide the fact that his teasing was strained. Poe leaned against a toppled gate and pulled off his tricorn hat, leaving a mess of curls in its place.

“How are you?” Rey asked. Poe’s face cleared of amusement into something far more serious.

“Well enough. Considering.”

“And Leia?” 

Poe huffed out a laugh. “She is rallying the women in camp for better living conditions and—as always—getting her way.” 

“She’s not in trouble for insubordination yet?” 

“When has Leia ever been in trouble for that?” Poe raised his eyebrows. Rey joined in with Poe’s laughter, grateful that Leia was well at least. 

“The real question is how you are,” Poe said. “Leia and I were aggrieved to hear about Wexley.”

The image of Wexley hanging from the tree came unbidden to Rey’s mind. She looked away from Poe and kicked at a loose patch of dirt. “I did everything I could, Poe. But we lost a good man anyways. I’m sorry.”

“There is nothing for you to apologize for,” Poe said, shaking his head. “Because of Wexley’s sacrifice we were able to fortify Little Egg.”

Rey looked up sharply. “The men are prepared?”

“Our privateers there had become too complacent and confident. They had no defenses. We have placed reinforcements at the harbor to make sure that they will be ready when the redcoats arrive.” 

“Thank the Lord,” Rey muttered. 

“They would have been massacred,” Poe said with a shocked shake of his head. “We are lucky we received your intelligence when we did. Now the British will be the ones trapped.”

Feeling her stomach drop, Rey thought of Hewlett smiling at Anna, his innocent brown eyes filled with adoration. Would he be the one to pay for intelligence that she and Anna had passed on themselves? But if they hadn’t, how many of their own men would have died? Wexley’s sacrifice would have been for naught. 

“Wexley would have been proud that he had saved those men,” Rey whispered. 

“Yes. He most certainly would’ve.” Both of them paused in silence at his memory, remembrance of Wexley’s jovial laugh dashing away the sadness. Poe broke the silence first.

“I have something important to discuss with you, Rey, but first I want to know why you asked to meet me after all your protests last time about my safety.”

“Right.” Rey’s thoughts circled back around to the purpose of this meeting. Dragging a crate to face Poe, she sat down and folded her skirts tidily around her. This was to be a serious discussion that she hoped would end in answers. Sensing the change of energy, Poe straightened. “As you now know from my letter, I am aware of Anna and of Jarek and, in fact, the whole notion of their being a network here in York. One that I was not made aware of until there was no other choice.”

“Yes.” The answer was steeped in wariness.

“I want to know why there was such secrecy about it and why it was specifically kept from me.”

“Rey you were placed too close—”

“No.” Rey cut off Poe with a raised hand. “I know all too well what you will tell me. I've heard it from both Anna and Jarek. Today I want answers not excuses.”

Poe gave a wry grin. “You remind me of Leia when you are like this.” The comparison warmed Rey, but not enough for her to lose focus.

“And yet she was the one who gave the order to keep me in the dark.”

“You know her reasons.”

“Yes. I do. Now tell me the why, Dameron. I know you aren't one to worry about disobeying orders here and there. Not when it gets you what you want. Perhaps that selfish quality could be redirected for a moment.”

Shocked laughter filled the barn. “Are you using my personal defects against me now, Niima?”

“If it means getting the answers I want? Then yes.”

Poe ran a hand through his hair in agitation, shaking his head with a long, drawn out sigh. He picked up his own crate and settled down on it across from Rey. “Leia will kill me when she finds out.”

“Leia won’t kill you.” Rey smiled. “She’ll just give you grief for a little while.”

“That sounds worse.”

“Poe.”

Another sigh. “Fine. Know that I do not think this wise, but I also know you. You’ll keep digging until you find what you are looking for. It’s what makes you a good spy.” He paused. “You remember what Leia told you when she asked you to become a spy for her?”

“Yes.” Rey nodded. “She told me that what General Washington was doing wasn’t enough. That we needed spies not just in the small towns but in the heart of the British stronghold. In York. And that I would act independently as someone that couldn’t be traced back to the Continental Army—someone that was working outside the purview of the General.”

“Yes. And at the time that was true. . . but then things changed.” 

“Changed how?”

“Right after you were placed in York, General Washington found out what Leia had been doing—how she had built connections from the ground up in York and had been training you to spy on Major Ren.”

“Oh.” Rey rocked back in shock, the crate below her creaking. “Was Leia punished? Was the General upset?”

“Upset?” Poe shrugged. “Yes. A woman and a camp follower building her own network under his nose did not sit well . . . But General Washington is one of the most brilliant minds I’ve ever met, Rey, and he would not punish someone for contributing to the cause.”

“So?”

“So, Leia and I began working with Major Tallmadge who helped me with developing the Culper Ring. And we . . . combined our networks.”

“What?” The question came out a mix of explosive and confused. “Combined networks?”

“Yes. You and the Culper Ring are now one in the same.”

“You mean to tell me that my intelligence, everything I’m learning, isn’t just going to you but to—”

“It is going straight to General George Washington. He is the one acting on your intelligence. It is not just me or Leia whispering in the ears of Majors and Captains now.”

Rey leaned back, releasing her held breath. This was not quite what she had expected. Though she wasn’t sure she knew what she expected in the first place. But knowing that her work and Wexley’s was actually influencing and aiding the General of the Continental Army was gratifying in a way that was unsayable. But not everyone in York had known this was the case . . . 

“The dropsite is outside of Setauket isn’t it?” Rey asked, the pieces clicking into place. “Outside of where the Culper Ring is. Jarek was shocked when I gave him information about the dropsite.”

“Yes. It is. Not everyone was made aware of our connection to Culper. It was safer that way. Before, when we had two separate spy rings, there was less risk. But now if even one part of the network is discovered—”

“The whole operation falters,” Rey murmured. “But why combine them in the first place?”

“Necessity. We don’t have the numbers and for our intelligence to pass through without delays we have to be on the same page—to work together. The courier in Setauket is a whaler. He is the one that has been able to get all the information to us so fast collectively.”

Rey dropped her hands in her lap, a full understanding of the situation falling heavy on her shoulders. “I see.”

“We couldn’t tell you, Rey. It was too dangerous. It is still too dangerous. Leia will be beyond enraged to know I told you.”

“But you and Leia . . . you’ll trust me now won’t you? I would never ever risk the lives of so many or the success of this operation. You must know that,” Rey said, feelings of hurt spiraling up in her. “I wouldn’t have risked even the little I did know before.”

“It’s not you,” Poe said, rubbing at his eyes wearily. “It is that monster that you have been stuck living with that we do not trust.”

“Monster,” Rey whispered, the word scalding her tongue. Poe had called him one before, but this time it didn’t feel the same.

“It was Leia’s idea that you be put so close to him. And I agreed. But with each passing week that you are left here I become more and more concerned. I thought I would be able to handle the knowledge that I encouraged you to become a confidante to him, Rey. But after Wexley’s death I’ve begun to question my judgement.”

Rey blinked. This didn’t sound like Poe. Not at all. “Poe. I don’t understand. I’ve kept my cover in tact. In fact, everything is going according to plan. I have the Major under control—”

Poe's expression and tone darkened “You think you do now, but we can’t foresee the future. Just as Wexley couldn’t foresee being caught in his web. Kylo Ren is a ruthless and bloodlusting creature. If he discovers you, he will tear you limb from limb to retrieve whatever information you have without batting an eye.”

“Poe,” Rey snapped. “That’s quite enough. You are talking about a man here. British? Yes. An enemy? Yes. But don’t speak so rashly about someone you do not know. Major Ren is as human as you or I.” 

As soon as the words left her lips, Rey knew she had made a mistake. It showed in the sharp glint in Poe’s eyes and tensing of his body, his sloped shoulders straightening. Her words were a defense—an unfathomable one—and it hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Excuse me?”

Rey threaded her fingers together. “All I mean to say is that you are speaking of a man you do not understand. I’ve spent more time around him than you have. I am able to gauge what he is capable of and prepare myself for any possible outcome.”

“No,” Poe breathed, tilting his head back. “That is not what you meant. Not in the least.”

“You are misunderstanding me, Poe.” Rey clenched her teeth together, trying to backtrack. “I'm saying not to overestimate him when he is human and just as easy to manipulate as anyone else.” The sentiment, while true, stung.

“You do know he is a torturer don’t you?” Poe demanded. “Don’t tell me that information hasn’t reached you. I’m sure you’ve dragged everything you can from Anna Wexley by now.”

“He did not torture Snap Wexley,” Rey said, folding her arms before her and choosing to ignore the slight. “Are you certain your intel on him is correct and that it isn’t simply hearsay?”

“Hearsay,” Poe scoffed. “Rey, have you lost all sense?”

“Don’t you dare call me into question for intel that you withheld and now choose to hold over me when I have spent months living with the man and can form my own logical conclusions.”

“Oh yes. Rey’s rationality. Although, I do wonder where it is now in the face of what we both know is the complete opposite of logic.” Poe shook his head and shot up from his crate, pacing before her.

“What do you mean by that, Dameron?” Rey tracked him with her eyes, wondering at the sudden anger radiating from him. 

“You know what I mean, Niima,” Poe said. “We saw it the moment you came to camp. You’ve always been blinded by your own goodwill.”

She sucked in a breath with understanding. “There is no crime in seeing the potential for good in the people around us, no matter who they are,” Rey snapped. “And it is has given me an edge in this mission. I know it has.” Rey had seen it at play. Her kindness to the Major had drawn him ever closer to her. For better or for worse.

“You are being a hypocrite, Rey,” Poe bit out. “I’ve seen your rage before. Can you say that such potential lives in those British soldiers that killed Han? Or, better yet, your dear friend Plutt?”

The air was choked from Rey at the mention of that name. That horrible, crippling name. Feeling her hands beginning to shake, she clenched them into fists. “How dare you.” Rey pushed all her fury and distress into her words. She rose from her crate and stalked up to Poe, her face inches from his.“I told you about him in confidence and you dare to use him against me? And for what? What are you even fighting me on? Is it worth hurting me for? Be careful that I don’t turn my supposed goodwill away from you. Friend.” She spat the last word. 

The air between them shimmered with unsaid emotion—the press of the charged silence slowly forcing them away from one another. Poe rubbed his hand across his face, dragging the tiredness down his drawn face. Turning away, Rey let out a shuddered and steadying breath, her own frustration dissipating. Poe's anger hadn't just appeared out of nowhere. It had started with the mention of Major Ren and spiraled downward from there.

“I'm sorry. I went too far. I just am tired and angry and—”

“Why are you so angry?” Rey asked, turning around to face him. “What has Major Ren done to you?”

“Rey . . .” Poe trailed off with a defeated look, a sad smile gracing his lips.

“No. You can't worm your way out of this. Not after everything you just said.” Rey looked at him pointedly. 

“Its best—”

“What did he do?” Rey didn't have time or the patience for what was best anymore—especially if it involved the Major.

Poe sighed and ran an agitated hand through his curls. “Fine.” With sharp movements, Poe shucked off his coat and began untying his shirt to lift it off of him.

Discomfort started to draw a blush to Rey’s face. “What are you—”

The shock of seeing his bare chest silenced her. Where there should have been only the smoothness of skin, lay jagged and crisscrossing scars. Long and dull pink, skin puckered forever in marred lines, the scars were ghastly reminders of distant pain. Rey moved closer, her hands raised as if to trace the path the weapon had taken across his body.

“He . . . The Major did this?” Rey couldn't hide the horror in her voice. Her hands fell back to her sides. Poe pulled his shirt back on, hiding the scars behind clean linen. But the image stayed stuck there in Rey’s mind. She didn't think she would ever forget it.

“Yes.” Poe said, his voice gruff.

Rey looked up. Denial was starting to pull at her, making her feel more and more distant from Poe's words. “You told me you had only met him on the battlefield. But this is . . .”

“Torture. I lied.” Poe shrugged back on his jacket, not quite looking at her.

“Does Leia know?”

“No. I didn't want to tell her.” Poe slumped back on the crate, his eyes staring down at the toes of his boots. Rey wanted to ask why, but bit her tongue. She had her own personal hells that she kept to herself too, some of which Poe knew only a little about. 

“When did this happen?” Rey asked quietly, folding herself back onto the crate, her mind trying to make sense of this new information.

“Years ago. At the very beginning of the revolution. Before you came to camp and I met you.”

Rey touched her fingertips to her lips and shook her head. “What exactly happened **,** Poe?”

Poe tugged at his coat and shirt as if to put everything back in order. His eyes seemed to look through her as he spoke. “I was doing reconnaissance when a group of redcoats discovered me. I was taken to their camp and held there for days. Little did I know, they were waiting for their General to arrive.”

“Snoke,” Rey breathed. 

Poe nodded, his hair falling into his eyes. “He came with Ren, who appeared to be little more than a foot soldier at the time. They wanted information from me about our troop movements and where we would attack next. And when I refused, they . . . Well, they . . .” Motioning dramatically towards his chest, Poe gave a sardonic smile. “Repeatedly. And when cutting me open wasn't working, they started to pour salt into my open flesh.”

“Poe,” Rey whispered. It was savage and incomprehensible. Those soft, gentle hands that had held Rey and comforted her, had done this to Poe? To her friend? Nausea began to come in ebbing waves, that Rey fought back. Like puzzle pieces, she tried to force the Major's warm smile and the remnants of violence scattered across Poe’s chest together into one image. But . . . She couldn't. Even in the face of solid and unwavering evidence, the Major's kindness towards her couldn't be washed away. But neither could Poe's obvious suffering. Suffering that was irrefutably done by the man with that same smile.

“Snoke started first and invited Ren to join him later on. I will never forget the look in his eyes. It was as if he had no emotion just . . . a hollowness.” Poe shivered, burrowing deeper into his coat. Feeling her own chill run through her, Rey folded her arms and shoved away memories of Wexley's execution and the look she herself had witnessed. “They would take turns trying to break me. But I didn't. I couldn't.”

“I'm sorry.” Rey leaned forward, wanting to comfort him but not knowing quite how to do so. 

Poe waved her apology away. “I walked away stronger.” 

“How did you escape?” Rey asked.

“Major Tallmadge rescued me along with his men. I was lucky. The encampment I was kept at was remote and not well fortified.” Poe grinned. “They didn't know what hit them.”

“I am thankful to this Major Tallmadge for rescuing you.” Rey sat back, unsettled and unsure of everything she had heard. “And I understand your anger now. I didn't mean to offend when I spoke of Major Ren’s humanity.” 

“There is no humanity in that man. You would be wise to not presume there is,” Poe said, his tone dipping into something dark. Rey studied Poe’s closed off expression and knew that on some level he was right—the proof was on his chest. But Rey couldn’t let go of the Major she had come to know. At least . . . not yet. Not when everything was still a blur of information.  

Rey looked up at Poe with what she hoped was a resolute look. “You're wrong. What has happened to you is . . . evil. Unforgivable. But there is something inside him. Something that is very much human. I've seen it, Poe, and I will use it to my advantage. To our advantage. Trust me.” 

With a loud click of his tongue, Poe shook his head in exacerbation. Rey knew that look. He was about to change tactics and push her to do the same. Again. “I think that it would be wise for you to start to distance yourself from the Major now that things have changed. Wexley’s death was a warning. You are getting too close and I believe it’s best if—”

“No.” The word came out with a whip-like crack.

Poe’s eyes widened. “No?”

Rey took a breath. “No. You don't get to do this. Not when you were the one to push me to be his confidante. You.” She pointed at him harshly. “If your worry is for my sake, I am glad that you care. And if the worry is about the exposure of the ring, well, you are going to have to trust me like you should have all along. I know the situation and target. From now on, I'm doing what  _ I _ think is best.”

Poe stared at her silently. Stunned. Well, that was good. Rey was tired of outside forces dictating what she was allowed to know and what she should do. From now on, she would rely on her judgement and hers alone if she had to. “So, Dameron, what important news were you wanting to discuss with me?” Rey crossed her arms and waited for his reply.

He let out a sharp laugh and raised his eyebrows. “I’m not going to win this battle, am I?”

“Not a chance.”

A loud sigh escaped his lips before Poe tipped his head back to look up at the bowing rafters of the barn. “Fine. You win for now, Niima.” When he looked back at her, his expression was all business. “I am needing more information about the turncoat in our midst. The Major. Whoever he is, he is quite good at going undetected and is close enough to the General to have leaked troop movements. Three battles, Rey. Three. All lost because the British knew when we would attack and where. The leak has to be stopped. Please tell you’ve found something else.”

“I’ve been working on deciphering the Major’s letters, but I’ve had little luck so far. And whoever he is, the contact is kept minimal and Major Ren is quick to burn any incoming letters. But I will keep working on finding anything else,” Rey promised. “Have you had no luck in drawing him out?”

“None. We have our suspicions on who it could be, but nothing that confirms it. He won’t take our bait.” Poe picked up his hat and crumpled the fabric in his hands. Staring at the rippled fabric, Rey turned her mind towards matters of logic and reason, something more familiar and comforting than all the secrets laid out in the open before her. A turncoat was usually created by only a couple of factors: ideology or money and prestige. And one, it seemed, was more likely than the other. A kernel of a plan began to form from the chaotic tornado of her thoughts.

“I think, perhaps, you are using the wrong bait,” Rey whispered.

“What do you mean?” Poe looked up at her curiously.

“Give me two days,” Rey said, rising from her crate. “Two days and then I’ll speak with you again. Here. Hopefully, with a plan.”

“I don’t know if I can spare that much time,” Poe said, coming to stand with her. 

“For this, I think it will be worth it.” Seeing his hesitation, Rey gave a small encouraging nod. “Please.”

Poe closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, the weight of their conversation showing on his face. “Two days. No more.”

“Of course.” Rey said, a sense of purpose filling her. Two days. She hoped it was enough time. And not just to set things in motion. She hoped, more than anything, two days was enough time for her to understand all that she had learned today and to, perhaps, figure out who Major Ren truly was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Until Sunday!   
> Thanks for reading guys!
> 
> [InfiniteBlackRose’s Tumblr](https://infinitelyblackrose.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [A Spy’s Game Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5CynEFYJALjYPTcRBYPrKK)


	23. Unraveling Secrets Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this wasn't up Sunday. I had family stuff that hindered my editing time.  
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter . . . I don't know why but this one was the hardest for me to write and I'm the most nervous to share it haha I hope you enjoy!

Rey passed the door of his room for the eleventh time. Looking up at the window down the hall, she saw the sunlight drifting away and night taking up residence around Raddus House. She rubbed at her eyes in frustration. Rey had wasted the whole day avoiding going into his room because doubt had creeped inside her and curled up, kneading its claws into her heart.

What if she found something that proved all her grandiose speeches to Poe wrong? What if the Major truly was nothing more than a monster who tortured her friend until he nearly broke? She shook her head. That fact was horrid enough. It should be enough to drive her towards seeking information to destroy him—to drive this revolution to victory.

And yet, if it was true, she had a feeling that she would be risking more than just her pride at being wrong. It was at the risk of all the memories she had accidentally built with him. And at the risk of the man she had come to . . . respect. That thought was enough to send her past his room for an twelfth time. In her agitation, she hit her closed fist against her thigh in an unsteady tempo. This wouldn’t do. She had promised Poe a plan and information and the Major would be back soon. Now was her only chance. Taking a rallying breath, Rey jerked to a stop before his door and, with a gentle turn of the doorknob, stepped inside.

Rey didn’t take anytime to look at the details of the room and strode straight to his desk and the drawers that lined either side of the desk. Meticulously, she went through each dismally filled drawer. Whatever new letters he had received were long since destroyed or taken with him. With each new drawer opened, Rey began to panic about not finding anything at all. There was not even a single hint about what cypher he could be using or any other information, just more and more blank parchment sheets and quills and inkwells.

She had nearly given up on searching the desk when she saw something odd in the bottom drawer on the left side. Illuminated by the angle of the last remnants of sun drifting its way through the window, was a raised lip in the back corner of the empty drawer. Rey sat back on her heels, her hunched position already beginning to cause an ache in her ribs. The color of the wood base was just the faintest bit lighter than the rest of the drawer.

Rey hooked a finger under the raised corner and pulled. It gave way with no resistance. She let out an excited laugh. It was a false bottom. Setting the square piece of wood to the side, Rey peered in and found three very out of place items: his black journal, a silver key, and a piece of thick parchment with a triangle shape cut out of the middle.

Rey gasped and picked up the paper with the triangle. He was using Mask Letters. Of course! She cursed herself for not thinking of it before. Feeling an excited grin and shiver overtaking her, she grabbed a spare sheet of parchment and quickly copied the size and measurements of the triangle onto it. The Major hadn’t been using a cypher at all! This whole time the key to reading the letters had been here, hidden away. Now she would be able to read his correspondences without worry. Pocketing the copy, Rey placed the letter mask back in the drawer and picked up the false bottom. Looking down at the journal and key, she hesitated.

This was a victory in and of itself, but it did not feel like enough. Not after everything she had learned this morning. Rey needed to know more. With shaking hands, she picked up both the journal and the key and set them on top of the desk. She stood and stared at them.

It seemed odd that the Major had parted from his journal and hidden it after being so careless with where he kept it before. And the key. Well that simple, silver key was what really intrigued Rey. Her thoughts drifted to the trunk she knew was still hidden under his bed. What if . . . ?

Rey snatched up the key and moved around the bed to where the headboard was pressed against the wall. Kneeling down—her skirts flowing out on either side of her—she dragged the small trunk out from beneath the bed, the loud scraping of leather against wood filling the room around her. It was just as she remembered: small and black with two leather straps and locks on either side. Rey stared down at the key resting in the palm of her hand. Was it possible?

Lifting it up, Rey slid the key into the left lock. Turning it, it gave a satisfying click. A small, surprised breath escaped her. It was a match. Sliding the key out, Rey moved to unlock the remaining latch and hesitated—the key frozen in mid-air, the sun winking off its silver body. _I don’t have a soul._ His words to her that day on the porch came to her then, stopping her. _I felt nothing when I took lives on the battlefield. No pleasure. And no remorse._ Rey closed her eyes at the memory. _I am a monster, Miss Niima._ She had always known that his words held some distorted sense of truth, but beneath it all she had heard pain. True, real, and undeniable pain. And then there were his words of acceptance and patience and understanding. Memories of gifts and laughter and soft touches. All of it counterbalanced and even: the good and the bad of this strange man. What if Rey opened this trunk and found something? Something that altered the balance and tipped the scales to something unredeemable?

Could she handle it? She closed her eyes—lost in thought.

It was that last question that hooked in her mind and distracted her from everything else around her. The hum of her thoughts erased even the soft padding of shoes across the floorboards and the quiet, shocked intake of breath.

“Miss Niima?”

Rey froze, her heart faltering. She took a breath. And another. With slow and stiff movements, she rose from the floor and turned around, her hand tightening around the key until she was sure its shape would be imprinted into her palm. Rey counted off every mistake that had led her to this moment: leaving the door wide open—negating any warning she could’ve had, not having a reason established for being in here, leaving all the desk drawers riffled through, being reckless in thinking that they wouldn’t be back early, and, stupidly, letting her mind wander and not remaining focused.

With shaking hands, she finished turning to face the person who had caught her.

Finn stood before her, his eyes darting between her and the key and the trunk. He didn’t look surprised or angry, only . . . disappointed. Her breathing quickened. If he was here that could only mean the Major was here too. Seeing Rey’s gaze dart past him, Finn gave a grim smile.

“He isn’t here. The Major was upset and didn’t want to bring his anger into the house. He will be out riding for however long it takes him to calm down.”

“I see.” Rey forced a calm tone into her voice. Finn tipped his head, studying her for an uncomfortable moment.

“I have a feeling I know why you are in here, Miss Niima, and if that feeling is correct, then I have questions that need to be answered.”

“It isn’t what you are thinking, Finn,” Rey said, scrambling within herself to find a rational reason for her to be in the Major’s bedroom and looking through his things. But her mind was like quicksand, the more she struggled the more she seemed to fall farther and farther into a pit of nothingness.

Finn folded his arms. “Then what is this?”

Rey opened her mouth. Closed it. With a sigh, Finn released his crossed arms and let them hang loosely at his sides.

“It’s what I thought then.”

“Finn. Please. You must understand—”

His raised hand cut her off. “Frankly, Miss Niima, I don’t care for this war. This revolution. I may be the Major’s valet but I am not on the side of the British.” Rey let out a relieved sigh, one that raised Finn’s eyebrows. “Nor am I on the rebel’s side either.”

“Then what are you going to do?” Rey asked, knowing full well that her future now rested in his very hands. Hands that held no allegiance.

“First, I want to know who else in this house is involved.” The words were sharp and staccato, but below them rang anxiety.

Rey sucked in a sharp breath. “Finn . . .”

“You will tell me,” Finn said, taking a step closer to her. “I have to know. Is Rose involved?”

Steadying her gaze, Rey said, “No.”

Finn stared at her silently before shaking his head and leaning against the footboard of the Major’s bed. “I don’t believe you.” He let out a shuddered breath. “It was one thing to ignore my missing clothes or to let go of seeing Rose sneak out of the Major’s room once. It is another to find you here, searching his belongings.”

Rey tensed, watching panic begin to settle across Finn’s normally joyful face. This was not what she had wanted. She had exposed her and Rose unintentionally.

“I was taken from my family when I was young,” Finn said, straightening away from the footboard. “When I arrived in the American colonies I had nothing. No-one. I was forced into something new and obedient until the British came and freed me. I was given a chance, Miss Niima, at a new life. I took the job with the Major out of necessity, to build a new future for myself. All I’ve ever focused on are needs to be met. Until . . .”

“Until you met Rose,” Rey whispered, clasping the key in both hands.

“Yes,” he sighed, a smile coming to his eyes. “She is my future now.” He paused, glancing down at his hands. When he looked back up at Rey, she saw the resolution in his gaze. “I won’t do anything to hurt or compromise her. I can’t. It would destroy me.”

Rey took a step forward. “I understand, Finn. The last thing I want is Rose hurt. I would do anything to prevent it.”

“Then you will stop her involvement?”

Pausing, Rey considered Finn. It was an understandable request considering the circumstances, but Rey found she could not give a set answer. “I will no longer ask Rose for favors. But, if she comes to me and wants to help, I will not turn her away. It is her choice to make.”

Rey saw the protests rising on his face and waited patiently to hear what he would say. But then, as quickly as they came, they left. Acceptance took root instead. “That is all I can ask.”

Rey nodded. “I give you my word that I will not go to her from now on.”

“And in turn, I will not expose you, Miss Niima,” Finn said. “I wouldn’t do that to Rose . . . or to you. I may not be on anyone’s side, but I will not be the reason someone dies.”

“Thank you,” Rey breathed, feeling all the tension in her body drain away.

“But know that I will not help you if the Major discovers you. I want no part in this and I will do what I must to protect Rose.” Finn raised his eyebrows and waited for her response.

“Noted,” Rey said, dropping her hands to her sides, the key now slick with her sweat. Finn’s gaze fell on the key, a curious look coming over him.

“You know, when I took this job with the Major, I only saw him as a means to an end. And then I hated him for a while. He has a bloody awful temper. But now . . . now I respect him. He is a curious man. One that cannot be easily understood.” Finn looked to the trunk beyond her. “Whatever you are hoping to find in there, you won’t. I think, perhaps, its contents will only complicate matters for you.”

“Complicate? How?” Rey asked as Finn started to move away from her.

“Oh. And so will the last page of this.” Finn rested the palm of his hand on top of the Major’s journal before continuing on to the wardrobe, plucking out Major Ren’s heaviest wool coat, and making his way towards the open door.  Pausing in the doorway, he gave her one final glance. “Rest assured. He won’t be back for a while.” And then Finn was gone.

Rey’s shoulders slumped as she took a deep breath. It was as if all the air had suddenly returned to the room now that Finn had left. Everything felt like a dream. A nightmare. Like she hadn’t just been exposed and that Finn and her hadn’t made some deal that was held together only by their shared affection for Rose. Lord.

Rey collapsed onto the Major’s bed, the downy feathers of the quilt settling below her. Running a hand roughly through her hair, Rey cursed herself a thousand times over. She had been a god damn fool and all because she had felt unbalanced and had decided to come in this room and to open the bloody trunk and—

She looked down at the half-opened leather box at her feet. Her curiosity overtook her horror at what had just occurred. What had Finn meant by its contents complicating matters? Looking at the gray sky outside, Rey knew she was now very close to running out of time to look through the rest of Major Ren’s things.

Scooping the trunk up from the ground and plopping it on the bed, Rey unlocked the final lock of the trunk and flung back the lid. Inside she found nothing that incited horror or despair. And nothing that appeared to be linked to intelligence work. All that the little trunk contained were letters. Stacks and stacks of scattered letters—some filled with elegant script and some with scribbled penmanship. Many were dated at the beginning of the war and several were from before. But there was one common attribute: all of them were addressed to his mother.

‘Mother’ was always curled with beautiful swirls, the ink imprinted on the page with care and unspoken affection. It took Rey’s breath away and immediately made her feel as if she had stumbled upon a secret that she should not have. And she would have closed the lid and locked the trunk tightly, forgetting that she had ever seen such a personal and intimate thing, except that a letter dated from yesterday contained her name: Rey, twisted and wound into the very heart of the letter.

 _Wrong. Don’t do it._ It was what her heart said. But her head, with all its hunger for knowledge and understanding, drove her into picking up the long, beautiful letter and reading it—if only to know why he spoke of her in an unsent letter to his own mother.

 

_Mother,_

_I am writing again. It seems, lately, as if you will not leave me. A woman I’ve come to know asked me some weeks ago if I missed you. I told her no. But that was a lie. Of course it was a lie. It is why I am here again, writing something I will never send you._

_I’ve been wondering lately if you miss me too. And then I hate myself for wondering. I know you don’t, deep down, but I keep having resurgences of hope. Foolish and ignorant hopes. It is partly her fault._

_Rey._

_There are awful moments when she reminds me of you, Mother. Passionate and stubborn. And then I remember something from my childhood with you and I lose myself in all that I’ve lost. All that I’ve ruined. All that you took from me when you cast me aside._

_But, I still want it back._

_I want our family back and I do not know what to do with a want that cannot be. That I shouldn’t want. How can you kill a want when it is simply an idea? They aren't like men: easy to kill and bury and forget. They stay stuck. And it makes me feel resentment at harboring that want. It is reassuring to feel such an emotion until I remember how you would frown at me for wallowing so. And then, like a circle, I come back to wishing you were here to reprimand me in your harsh and understanding way._

_But I can’t miss you. Not when you will never miss me. I don’t blame you, Mother. I deserve your blame and hatred and disgust. I deserve all of it for what I have done but . . . I am starting to wonder if I also deserve forgiveness too._

_Rey has shown me that I might. She has forgiven me for every misstep I’ve made while staying here in this house that is not my home. She . . . she looks at me as if I am kind and warm and gentle and all the things I know I am not. She has seen me execute a man, has reprimanded me for my unfeelingness and then, she has come back to me and has sought forgiveness for hurting me. Forgiveness. From me. I do not understand it. I don’t think I ever will._

_Rey is all light and hope and good. She is beautiful, Mother. I know you would love her in the way I wished you could have loved me._

_And the truth is, she_ is _everything I wish to be. In her, I see all that I could have had. All that I could have been. I can’t stay away from her_ — _away from her kindness and her patience. No. I can’t stay away from how she sees me. Because she sees me in a way that no-one else has for so many, lonely years. She wishes to understand me and it makes me hope that I may be something worth understanding._

_She is like the world’s finest opium and I don’t know if this craving is born of lust or if it is something more. Something more pure. Something I never thought I could ever feel._

_And then, I fall back here: to missing you anyways. I wish I had a mother to ask about these feelings growing inside of me, feelings I cannot ask Snoke about. I think, maybe, you would understand._

_But I can’t have that. I can’t have you back. And I think, if I’m being honest with myself, I know that I can’t have Rey either. In the end, all I do is destroy. It is what I’m good at. It is what I was designed for._

_I wish you were here to tell me I am wrong. I wish you were here to forgive me._

_I love you, Mother. I always will._

_Your son,_

_Ben_

 

The letter fell from Rey’s hands and landed with a quiet snick on top of years of letters that Major Ren . . . no . . . Ben—for that had to be his real, given name—had written unsent and unanswered to a mother he obviously loved with his whole heart. Tears pooled, unspilt, in Rey’s eyes—his longing and ache for a mother who missed him him calling to her own empty space that could only ever be filled by a mother she could not even put a face to. And then, there was his . . . want of her—his praises of her. A lowly, servant girl with a past so tarnished that it could never be cleaned. The Major’s vision of her was unlike anything she could ever comprehend. It made no sense and—Lord it was all too much.

Rey slammed the lid of the trunk shut, locked the clasps, and shoved it beneath his bed once more. She should not have read it. She should not have looked. All this had done had confused her more as to who the Major was. Good or evil? Was there such a thing in this broken man? Or were both tangled in a web of loneliness and misguided actions and longing?

Standing, she began to put the room back to rights, thinking nothing but of leaving this space as soon as possible. That is, until she looked at the journal and remembered Finn’s mention of the last page. Rey let out a sharp crack of a laugh. With her stupid and foolish and reckless curiosity, only she could still have the illogical drive to know more and ruin herself further.

With a sharp flick of the pages, Rey opened the journal to the final page and froze. It was not in horror, but in awe.

There in shades of gray and black ink, Major Ren had captured her likeness. And she was . . . beautiful. Beautiful in a way that she had never seen herself to be. The Rey of the drawing was smiling, hair caught in motion around her, freckles tracking the curve of her nose. Carefree, wild, and bright. Was this truly how he saw her?

Her heart hiccuped.

She shut the journal. She returned it and the key back to their hidden space. And she left the room and all the confusion of her discoveries behind her. All of this could wait until later to be sorted and dissected and understood. How he saw her. How she saw him. It had to wait.

But Rey, it seemed, was out of luck today.

As she made her way down the stairs to the first floor, the main doors were flung open and Major Ren walked in. Rey paused mid-step as he shut them loudly behind him. He was wind blown, his hair wild around him, and his cheeks were pinked from the winter night. The wool coat Finn had provided him was hanging from his hand—unused. Major Ren looked like beautiful chaos and it did not go unnoticed by Rey.

A small gasp escaped Rey, drawing his attention to her. Dark and tired eyes studied her quietly. It was obvious that he was upset about something; there were remnants of anger lingering in his expression but they gave way as soon as he looked at her. Rey watched as his expression danced from tired anger to relieved happiness. And in that small change, she was confronted by his image of her—of that drawing pressed between the back pages of his journal. Was that what he was seeing now?

Rey looked away from him, casting her gaze to the stair she was now stuck on even though she felt like running away. A pause. Silence. And then she heard a loud, accepting sigh escape him and the creak of the wood stairs as he started to move up the stairs to his room. Clenching her jaw, she remained frozen in place, waiting for him to pass so that she could be free of whatever spell was holding her there. But she couldn’t help but look out of the corner of her eye to see his reaction. Rey watched, horrified, as Major Ren turned away from her, his face hardening into something akin to hurt.

It had been such a quick reaction on her part—a moment born from self consciousness—and yet, to him, it had been something more insinuating. She had turned from him and rejected greeting him. It had injured him and that was not something she had wanted.

Everything became simple for Rey after that realization.

Major Ren stepped beside her, the weight of their bodies bowing the stair below them. Reaching out, Rey caught the cuff of his coat, halting him. Their breaths echoed loudly between as they turned to look at each other. His eyes were wide with curiosity—his hair falling messily around him. Rey bit her lip. Was this Ben? This man that was so weary and disheartened by whatever the day had brought? If he was, he did not look like a monster. 

“Major,” Rey whispered. He gazed at her searchingly, waiting for what she would say next. “I believe I want to celebrate our victory now.”

It took only a moment for understanding to dawn across his face. A smile bloomed on his lips, banishing his hurt to a place that could not be reached. “I would like that.”

Rey shivered at the warmth his voice brought. “Tomorrow then.” And then she let go of his cuff, the fabric slipping free of her fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So I am prepping to leave on a trip to Disneyland this week. I will be on a sort of, kind of hiatus until I get back seeing as I won't be getting much writing or editing done while I'm gone. I'm hoping to have the next chapter up a little past a week, but it may be a bit longer than that. Just thought I'd let ya know in case it takes me longer than usual to post!
> 
> Until next time! Thank you all for reading! :D
> 
>  
> 
> [InfiniteBlackRose’s Tumblr](https://infinitelyblackrose.tumblr.com/)  
> [A Spy’s Game Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5CynEFYJALjYPTcRBYPrKK)


	24. Paradise and Purgatory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> So sorry for how long the delay was on this chapter. A mixture of traveling, sinus infections, and writer's block is to blame.  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter! Feels good to be back.

It was snowing—enough to cover the dirt path and enough to shroud the dismally gray buildings from view. The alleyway that Major Ren and Rey were walking down looked nothing like it did the day that Simcoe dragged her down its hidden and winding paths.

Rey burrowed deeper into the heavy wool of her cloak. The claustrophobic tightness of the alley and the memory were lessened only by the comforting presence behind her. Turning around, she caught sight of Major Ren—his shoulders hunched against the wind, snow settling on his tricorn hat in haphazard patterns. Noticing her gaze, he gave a hesitant smile.

“Almost there,” he said, picking up his pace so he was right behind her. Rey turned back around with a relieved smile. The Major had said very little all morning. Whatever had happened to put him in a foul mood yesterday was obviously still weighing on his mind.

Rey was, in some ways, content with the silence. She too had a lot on her mind: from his letter to Poe’s revelations to the plan that she now only had a day and a half to set in motion before Poe abandoned the thought. Releasing a clouded breath, Rey pondered the shakiness of her plan—it depended solely on the Major and her influence upon him. She could only hope that whatever had happened yesterday would help push him towards a decision.

The smile fell from her lips—the manipulation of it all leaving a sour taste on her tongue. Was this how she had always seen the Major? As a pawn to be moved? Rey shook the feeling of wrongness and the snow from her shoulders. What she was doing would help Poe and save lives on the battlefield. That was what mattered.

“We’ll go right. Up ahead.” Warm breath brushed against her ear, sending a shiver down Rey’s spine. She didn’t dare turn around, choosing, instead, to listen to the rustle of the Major’s coat as he pulled away. Following his guidance, Rey turned and twisted her way through the labyrinth of alleyways and old buildings until they stepped out into the emptiness of a field—the forest rising in the distance, towering pine trees like shadows in the haze of snowfall.

She breathed in the open space, taking in the feeling of a world untouched until she spotted a manor tucked into a far corner of the field, its wood as dark as the trees beyond it. It was obviously a wealthy man's home, but it was far from being the most extravagant building she had seen. Even the Raddus House surpassed it in size.

“What an odd place to build a home,” Rey said, glancing at the Major with a curious look.

“Faneuil is a private man,” Major Ren replied with a quirk of his lips. “He went into seclusion at the beginning of the war because he wanted no part in taking sides.”

“And yet, he is your acquaintance.” Rey pointed out as they began to make their way toward this elusive man's house.

“Yes. Well. He is a merchant and I may have saved him from being robbed by privateers. Twice. From both sides.” A dark humor curled his words. “And I have a respect for Faneuil. He hasn't gotten involved in this mess of a war and has stuck to his beliefs.”

“He’s a Quaker,” Rey said in realization. “I thought you held a dislike for them and their religion.”

“Yes, he is Quaker.” Major Ren sounded surprised. “But that is not the belief I am referring to.”

“Oh?”

He nodded. “Faneuil’s wife died years ago. He put aside this war to stay alive and present for his daughter. She means more to him than partaking in some crusade or false sense of duty. That is something that is respectable. Honorable.”

“I see,” Rey breathed, taking in the Major’s almost proud expression. And Rey did see. More than that she understood, especially after reading his letter. But there was something in his statement that didn’t quite make sense. She cocked her head and took on a teasing tone.“But a false sense of duty? That seems an odd statement coming from a man in regimentals. Are you not fighting out of loyalty to the Crown?”

“Why should I care about a King that sits across the ocean from me?” Major Ren said it so nonchalantly that Rey almost missed its implication.

“Careful,” she said, shock leaking into her voice. “You’re starting to sound like a rebel.”

“Hardly,” Major Ren scoffed. “I am not fighting in this war because of the King. I am fighting in this war because it is what I’m good at and because I’m loyal to—” He cut himself off.

“General Snoke.” Rey couldn’t keep the distaste out of her voice. Major Ren looked at her from the corner of his eye.

“Yes.”

With a disappointed breath, Rey changed subjects. “So Faneuil’s home is where you wanted to take me to celebrate?” She let a smug grin overtake her, falling back into a more comfortable approach with Major Ren. “I have to admit, I’m a little disappointed, Major. I expected something . . . well, more.”

“Oh.” A sharp glint lit in his eyes. “I don’t think you will be once you see what’s inside, Miss Niima.”

Rey pressed her lips together, hiding away her smile. The Major and her were coming back to a sense of normalcy after leaving so much unsaid . . . Specifically about what had happened in the study—something Rey had been unable to bring up in light of so many other revelations.

They made the rest of the way to Faneuil's house in a content silence, the quiet of the snow cocooning them away from the rest of the world. That is until they knocked on the doors of the manor and, instead of a servant, Rey and the Major were greeted by the wide, green eyes of a little girl. She leaned against the edge of the doorway, her blonde hair a tangled mess around her. She couldn’t be more than six years old.

“Kylo!” Racing out from behind the door, she latched onto the Major’s leg, her cheerful face peering up at him. Rey watched with wide eyes as Major Ren knelt down and took her small hands in his own.

“Miss Mary. It’s a pleasure seeing you again,” the Major said. Rey gave a slight shake of her head, the image of such a hulking man with such a little human mind boggling to her.  

Mary Faneuil looked up at the Major with hopeful eyes. “Did you bring me a doll this time?”

Major Ren dug into his wool coat and pulled out a porcelain doll with a finely woven red dress. “Of course. A promise is a promise.” Mary let out a squeal of delight, hugging the doll to her chest.

“Mary! Good heavens,” a voice from within the manor called. A middle aged woman with graying hair bustled outside and took the little girl by her hand, guiding her back inside. “You can’t just answer the door like that. It is my job, young lady. Come now, in you go.” Too distracted by the doll, Mary simply ran inside, calling for her father. The servant turned back around with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Sir, for Miss Mary.”

Unfurling from his crouch, Major Ren waved away her apology. “It’s no matter.”

“Please, do come in. I will call for Mr. Faneuil.”

Rey and the Major followed the woman into the entryway. He removed his hat, hanging it on a hook by the door while Rey quickly took stock of her surroundings. She found nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, the main hall was quite sparse—the light-oak wood of the walls giving it a sense of openness. After hearing the footsteps of the servant fade away, she turned to look at the Major.

“You never struck me as someone who enjoyed the company of children.”

Major Ren didn’t turn to look at her, but the corners of his lips twitched. “What? A hardened and cold-blooded soldier can’t like children, Miss Niima?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Rey rebuffed. “I just—”

“I know I don’t seem like the type,” Major Ren said. “But I find listening to children refreshing. They see the world in such a carefree way. I envy them.”

Rey started to reply but was cut short by a deep, friendly voice.

“Major Ren, you made it.” A tall, slender man walked towards them from down the hall. His dark hair was peppered with gray, but his face showed little signs of entering his middle ages. He came to a stop before both of them, his green eyes taking in Rey with interest.

“Faneuil.” Major Ren nodded his head. “Thank you for allowing us to visit.”

“Of course, how could I deny your company when I haven’t seen you in so long?” Faneuil said. “And this must be the Miss Niima you spoke of in your letter. I am relieved to see your attacker didn’t severely harm either of you.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Faneuil,” Rey said, curtseying. “Thank you for inviting me into your beautiful home.”

“I am more than happy to have you visit.” Faneuil looked to the Major with a curious look. “If only to meet the woman I’ve heard so much about. But enough of the pleasantries, you didn’t come here to dilly dally with me. I’m sure Ren has spoken to you about my passion project, that is what you are here to see after all.”

“Actually, I’ve left it as a surprise, Faneuil,” Major Ren said, a hint of a warning in his tone.

“Ah. I see. Well, no more waiting then. Follow me.” Mr. Faneuil turned sharply on his heel, excitement in his steps as he led them down the main hall and into the heart of his manor. Rey took in everything: the finely polished floors, the immaculate paintings of landscapes adorning the walls, and the overall ordinariness that filled the space. What was so fascinating in this home that the Major would decide to keep it all as a surprise for her?

“You’re wrinkling your nose.”

Rey’s attention was drawn away from the house around them and to the smug look on Major Ren’s face. Lifting her fingertips to the bridge of her nose, Rey gave him a startled look.

“I thought you did that when you were focusing in general, but I realize now that you do it when you are trying to figure something out. The curiosity is driving you mad, isn’t it?”

“I won’t admit to that,” Rey said stubbornly, dropping her hand. A flicker of a smile graced his face.

“But you just did.”

“I did not.”

Major Ren started to reply, but was cut off by Faneuil drawing to a stop before two worn doors. Taking in her surroundings, Rey realized that they must now be at the back wall of the house and that these doors must be what led to either servants quarters or a veranda. The older man gave them a look of child-like anticipation.

“Please. You first, Miss Niima,” he said, stepping back from the doors and waving her forward. Without hesitation, she moved past both men,  pushed the doors open, stepped into the space beyond and, then, froze.

The first thing she noticed was the press of humid heat against her skin. And then green. So much green. Releasing an amazed breath, Rey stepped farther into the what could only be described as a miracle. Spinning around, she took in the huge glass windows and the light brick that encased her, sheltering her from the snow that crashed against them silently, and the brown earth pressed below her feet and the chaotic patterns of plants and trees and flowers in full bloom that seemed to stretch forever on either side of her. While the world beyond was trapped in a frigid stasis, the place Rey now stood seemed to be caught in the tight embrace of summer.

“This is . . .” Rey trailed off and gave a slight laugh, overwhelmed by what she was seeing. Finally the word came to her. “Magic.”

“Ah. I’m relieved,” Faneuil said, moving to stand beside Rey. “I thought you were going to say impossible. But Ren did mention you shared my passion. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“This is a greenhouse, isn’t it?” Rey said, turning to face him. “I’ve read about them in books but I’ve never seen one before.”

A delighted grin lit Faneuil’s face. “Yes. This is the first greenhouse in the whole of the American colonies. It’s taken me years to complete, but it has been worth it.”

Rey reached out a hand and trailed it through the air, feeling the moisture around her. “How is it possible to keep it so warm in here?”

“I knew you would ask that!” Faneuil guided her farther into the greenhouse and knelt down, his hands hovering above the ground. Rey mirrored him, feeling a rush of heat tangle through her fingers. “I have flues running below the floor. They give off radiant heat. And my ceilings are vaulted.” Faneuil pointed up. “It helps circulates the air.”

“Incredible,” Rey breathed, taking in the arched ceiling and vastness of his windows before rising to a stand. “Do you have record of the architecture and exactly how you built it? I would love to see how this was all made.”

“Of course.” Faneuil gave her a small smile before gazing past her. He gave a cough. “While I find them, why don’t you and the Major take a tour. I have tropical plants that I think you might find some interest in.”

At the mention of tropical plants, Rey brightened. “Yes. That would be lovely.” Faneuil nodded and stepped away, disappearing back into his home past the Major. After being caught up in the wonder that was the greenhouse, her attention returned to the man who had brought her here. Major Ren was leaning against the doorway, watching her with a small smile.

“This was the surprise,” Rey said. Pulling away from the wood of the doorframe, the Major came to stand before her.

“I told you I knew a place that you would fit, Miss Niima,” he said. “Did you doubt me?”

“No. It’s not that. I just never expected . . . This.” Rey looked around her at the mix of greenery. Now that she wasn’t so overwhelmed, she was beginning to pick out individual plants like the rows and rows of orange trees and lemon trees on their right. Faneuil had his own orchard spanning one length of the long greenhouse, while the other side seemed like a jungle of trees and flowers. “Its beautiful.”

Major Ren turned to take in it all with her. “I remember when Faneuil told me his plans. I told him it was impossible. But I was wrong.”

“Did you just admit you were wrong?” Rey teased. Major Ren raised his eyebrows.

“That is the one and only time I will admit such a thing.”

“I wouldn’t say that just yet,” Rey said, leaning towards him with a conspiratorial grin, the high of such a place relaxing her from any remaining awkwardness. The Major let out a small chuckle, one that rattled through Rey’s bones. “Thank you, Major, for showing me this. I have no words.”

A softness smoothed his features. “You’re welcome.” Lifting his arm, the Major let loose a nervous breath. “Would you allow me to escort you on our tour?” Rey looked at the finely woven fabric of his coat sleeve and the solid arm it hid away. With hesitancy, she wound her arm around his, her hand brushing against the back of his—the heat of the greenhouse nothing compared to the heat of his skin.

“I would be honored,” she said. The Major turned from her, his eyes not quite looking at their interlocking arms as he began to guide her down the cobble path winding through Faneuil’s own little piece of Eden.

Passing the orchard, Rey excitedly took in the oranges and lemons decorating the little, spindly trees like ornaments and, moving deeper into the greenhouse, she couldn’t help but begin to point out the different flowers and plants they passed in finely potted plants.

“Ah, Clivias!” Rey said, pulling the Major to the side of the path to look at the orange trumpet shaped flowers. “They are tropical. I’ve seen them in books but never in real life. Hard to kill. Probably one of the easiest flowers to care for. Oh! And there, Blue Ginger. They look almost like a cross between Lilacs and mini Pansies don’t they? At least I think they do. And there! Those are Anthuriums!” And like that Rey went through the greenhouse, telling the Major all about plants that she never imagined she would see outside of her books.

It wasn’t until they stopped before a far wall where greenery was clinging to the brick wall—blue, star-shaped flowers hanging from vines in their own, perfect constellations—that Rey realized how much she was talking. “Clematis. It takes several years for it to grow a vine. This must be at least four or five years old. And they can grow to be ten to twenty feet. Isn’t that amazing?” She looked up at the Major to find his attention was not on the flowers but on her. A blush rushed to her face as she hurriedly looked to her shoes. “I’m sorry. I am rambling. This must be quite boring for you.”

The Major let out a cough and looked up at the Clematis. “Not at all. This is my favorite flower so far.” He tilted his head, studying green vine winding around the violet-blue of the petals. “Although . . . I am surprised at how passionate you are about flowers.”

“Trees may be my favorite but I love flowers too,” Rey said. “You can’t help but love them, even if they don’t last.” She reached out and brushed one of the petals. “Unfortunately.”

“Some flowers come back though. And come back more beautiful than they were before.”

“I’ll concede you that,” Rey said, stepping back from the wall and guiding the Major back onto the cobblestone path, their footsteps echoing quietly off the large glass windows near them.

They fell into a silence, taking in the different bushes and flowers and small trees that surrounded them, hiding them away from the world beyond—no, the war beyond. And Rey found contentment in having the Major so close to her: his side nearly pressed against her own, his arm curving her’s towards his chest and her hand, unthinkingly, tracing the wrinkles of his coat there at his elbow. A brief moment of questioning why that was came to her. But then he looked down her with something akin to hope and she forgot what she was even questioning.

They walked towards the far end of the greenhouse where the plant life was more dense and where a south-facing window revealed that the snow was now so heavy that everything beyond the glass was a blanket of white. Rey didn’t run to every plant now, instead taking it all in from afar. That is until the familiar leaves of a tree caught her attention.

Breaking away from the Major, her arm slipping from his, she left the path and came upon a group of trees surrounding a stone bench. She reached out and ran her fingertips across the huge, fan-like leaves that arched towards the ground gracefully. Their trunks were like round, roughed up barrels. From somewhere faraway in her memories, she heard the sounds of ocean waves crashing against a shore.

“What plants are these?” Major Ren asked, coming to stand behind her.

“Sago Palms,” Rey breathed, pulling her hand away. “I never thought I would see one again.”

“These are tropical trees,” he said in surprise. “You’ve been somewhere like that?”

“A long time ago.” Rey stepped back, away from the mix of good and bad memories and away from the trees that elicited a confusion of emotions within her.

“I see.” Major Ren studied her for a moment before motioning towards the bench. “Shall we sit for a moment?”

Rey nodded and settled onto the bench, her back turned to the cluster of Sago Palms huddled around them. Major Ren sat next to her with a quiet sigh of contentment. Gazing out the far window into winter, Rey moved a smidge closer to him.

“I think this has been one of the best moments of my life.” She heard his shock in the crinkle of his clothes as he swiveled to face her.

“Truly?”

Rey looked up at him with a smile. “Is that such a surprise? You’ve taken me to a place that I’ve only ever imagined while reading. I feel as though I’m in a dream. I don’t think I can ever repay you.”

“You don’t have to repay me, Miss Niima. Your happiness is enough.” After a slight pause, he reached out and settled his hand upon hers, his fingers brushing across her knuckles. Rey stared down at their hands for what felt like an eternity. The china plates. Now this. Could she repay him?

His letter came to mind and she began to think that maybe she could. But she would have to be gentle and she would have to be as open as she would be asking him to be.

“I miss my parents,” she said, her voice cracking at the unexpectedness of such an admission. Glancing up, she saw curiosity in his brown eyes. “My mother especially. I have very little recollection of her. I can’t . . . I can’t even remember what she looks like if I’m being honest.” Rey looked away from him. “I’ve tried to remember. To piece her back together. Her eyes and her lips and her nose. But I find I can only seem to think of my own image. I suppose she could look like me but I’ll never know.”

Major Ren turned her hand face up and gently intertwined his fingers through hers. Without hesitation, Rey held on tighter. “I don’t even know her name. Or my father’s. I have no hope of finding them even if I did leave for Britain. I would have nowhere to start. But, sometimes, I think maybe they will come and find me themselves. That I will be walking through the market and someone will take me by the arm and swing me around and it will be them with relief in their eyes that I’m here and well and theirs. Isn’t that foolish?” Rey returned her gaze to the Major’s. She was relieved to not find pity in his eyes, but understanding.

“It’s not foolish. I have hoped for something similar.”

“Do you remember your mother? What she looks like?” Rey asked. A flicker of pain glanced across his face before he fell back into something more stoic.

“I do. Even to the smallest detail.”

“That’s good then.”

“Is it?” Bitterness took root in his voice. “I’m not so sure.”

“I think it is,” Rey said, drawing him closer. “Do you know where she is?”

He hesitated. Then he nodded. “I do. I think.”

“That’s lucky.”

“Lucky.” Major Ren spat the word, pulling a hair’s width away. “That is not the sentiment I’d use.”

“Maybe not, but you seem lucky to me. You know where she is and what she looks like. Its a chance, Major, to see her again if you choose. I wish I had that choice.”

Contemplation spun out between them at how similar and how different their circumstances were—pain the one thing linking them together. Slowly, the Major moved closer to her once more.

“She wouldn’t want to see me again,” he said, his hand tightening in hers.

“You can’t know that,” Rey said. “Not until you try.”

“Hmph.” He hummed his disagreement and Rey knew that she shouldn’t push anymore. But this was a start. And she thought that maybe it had opened the door just a little wider for him to begin a reconciliation not just for himself but for his mother.

The acknowledgement of that possibility dug deeper into her than Rey first imagined it would. It was one that her own mother had taken from her. Something prickly settled deep in her chest.

The words escaped her then. “My parents left me on a dock. Left me to be carried across the sea alone. They made sure I would never be able to try.”

She heard his sharp intake of breath before he tugged her closer, his side pressed against her own—coats and corsets separating them by woolen inches. He lifted his free hand and tucked it below her chin, raising her face gently. His next words plucked apart her jealousy. “They don’t deserve you. They never will.”

Rey hiccuped out something between a sob and a laugh. “I’m not so sure about that, Major.”

“That is the one thing you should be most certain about, Miss Niima. They would be lucky to have a daughter like you.”

She saw the sincerity and conviction in his eyes and, from within herself, she saw his thoughts of her in his letter and the image of her sketched out in ink. What he saw in her—and what her parents had not—was frightening, because it all felt like a mirage that would crumble as soon as he made it to the horizon and found it was all a lie.

A beautiful, terrible lie.

“The day after Wexley’s execution, when you accused me of seeing you as something you are not, I couldn’t understand the anger and insistence you had. I couldn’t fathom why you would want me to see you in such a way, but I understand now,” Rey said. “It is terrifying knowing that someone sees in you something that you cannot see. That, maybe, they expect you to be a person you might not be.”

“Miss Niima, what are you implying?” There was shock in his voice at the sudden turn in conversation.

“I am saying that you don’t know me, Major Ren. Not really,” Rey said, releasing his hand and drawing away from him. “My parents did and I was cast aside. There is so much you don’t know—things about my past that are . . . shameful and things I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to tell you about because I’m afraid . . . I’m afraid . . .”

Major Ren ducked his head down to meet her eyes. “What are you afraid of?”

Rey drew a breath.

“That you will never look at me the same way again.” As soon as the words left her lips, Rey realized how true they were. Major Ren blinked.

“And how do I look at you?” he whispered.

“With kindness. With understanding,” Rey said. “With . . . affection.”

He bit his lip then and glanced down with a nod. When he raised his head, Rey saw the beginnings of a smile. “You will never lose that.”

“You don’t know that,” Rey said, insistence rising in her voice, feelings of guilt beginning to take form inside. “I could. I would deserve it.”

“You are all that is good in this world, Miss Niima. There is no reason to think such a thing.”

“You are wrong.” Rey closed her eyes, her pile of lies blinding her. “And I dread the day you realize that I don’t deserve you as a friend.”

“That _you_ don’t deserve me?” The Major’s eyebrows lowered and his smile slipped from his lips. “I think you have that backwards.”

“I don’t think I do,” Rey admitted, even with the knowledge from Poe. Even knowing he was a Loyalist. He had been kind to her in a way that would shatter when he found out who she really was. All of who she was.

A scoff escaped him at her answer. Shooting up from the bench, Major Ren paced before her, his gray, woolen coat somber against the bright green of the trees and the blinding white of the snow outside. “Major?”

“You don’t know me either. Not entirely,” he said, still pacing. “There are things I’ve done. Horrible things.”

Poe's scars came to mind, mixing with the brokenness in his letter to his mother. “I can’t imagine that you can't be forgiven—”

“Forgiven.” Anger bubbled below the word.

“Of course,” Rey said. “I hope that one day I will be forgiven for choices I’ve had to make. There is no reason that you cannot hope for the same.” And she had to believe that. For herself and for him.

“Wanting forgiveness is a futile thing,” he said, running his hands through his hair, mussing it into a chaotic mess.

It was a lie. Rey knew it was. She had seen the proof in his letter. But she needed to hear it from him directly—to hear that he did believe in forgiveness too, because if he didn’t, she didn’t know what she would do if he ever found out about her.

“You can’t think that,” Rey said, knowing she was pushing this too far, but unable to stop herself. “Everyone wants forgiveness. We’ve all sinned, but there is always a chance at redemption. No matter what we’ve done.”

“Have you committed patricide?” Major Ren snapped, his body coming to an eerie stillness.

Rey froze. “What do you mean?”

The Major stepped in front of her, his body beginning to quiver with tension. “Have you killed your own father? Stolen his soul from this Earth and from your own mother? Because I have, Miss Niima, and there is no place in this horrible world that I can go to escape that truth.”

Rey couldn’t find her words. This was not what she had expected—this horrible truth. Because that was all it could be. It read in his face: the anguish of something that couldn’t be taken back. And it all made sense—his letter to his mother and his assurance that he could not be forgiven. The memory of their conversation on the porch about his lack of a soul came back to her in glaring clarity.

She watched as his face morphed from frustration and into the tragic realization of what he had just admitted to her. He looked away, his jaw working back and forth as the startled silence grew between them. After a moment he nodded sharply to himself and, when he glanced back at her, Rey saw cold acceptance, as if he already knew what she thought of him now. “Tell me, Miss Niima, can such a sin be forgiven?”

Slowly, she stood from the bench. “Major.” Rey hesitated, unsure how to answer such a question.

Major Ren worried at his lips and took a step back. “I already have my answer.” And then he turned on his heel, leaving her behind in the grove of Sago Palms. Taking a shuddered breath, Rey considered letting him go, to give herself time to think, but deep down she knew she couldn’t leave things unsaid again. Not like after their unexplainable connection in the study. And this . . . this was different.

Racing after him, her footsteps echoed loudly in her ears. “Major! Wait!” She caught up to him. His shoulders were hunched in on himself, his back turned to her and his steps didn’t slow. Reaching out, Rey caught his arm and tugged on him. The Major jolted to a stop, his breathing loud. But still he would not look at her. She tightened her grip on him, refusing to let him leave. “Don’t go.”

Slowly, he turned to face her, his face closed off of any emotion, his eyes not quite looking at her. Rey angled her head, trying to catch his gaze, her hand sliding down his arm and tangling in his own. She knew she could never confess to him about her past, or her present for that matter. But that didn’t mean he couldn't. “Please. Tell me everything.”

His eyes flickered down to meet hers. In them she saw just a small glint of relief. And it was enough to make him stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! Until next time :D
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> [InfiniteBlackRose’s Tumblr](https://infinitelyblackrose.tumblr.com/)
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> [A Spy’s Game Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5CynEFYJALjYPTcRBYPrKK)


	25. Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm nervous to share with chapter . . . I've been editing and rereading and overthinking. But no more! I am just hitting post now! Phew . . .

The smell of dirt and the press of humidity seemed to catch Rey and the Major and hold them to the bench surrounded by Sago Palms. It had only been moments since she had asked him to tell her everything, but the silence and the discomfort that clung to him made it feel like much longer than that. Major Ren had agreed to speak to her not in words, but in the turning around and the settling of his large frame upon the bench, his eyes cast down at his boots in thoughts so distant Rey was unsure he would even hear her if she spoke. 

And while Rey sometimes felt impatient in discovering truths, this was different. She now felt as if she had all the patience in the world, because whatever he was deciding to tell her she knew would be like another puzzle piece fitting into this complicated man. This was an opportunity for both of them. For him, an unbearable weight shared with another soul. For her, a key to unlocking an enigma that had plagued their acquaintanceship since they’d met—that deep seated self-hatred that lingered in every conversation they had had with one another— and a chance at understanding.

Of course, this opportunity was darkened only by the frightening possibility of it all. Rey wondered what she would do if all of this did boil down to simple patricide— that the Major hated his father enough to kill him in cold blood. But the ache in his features and the obvious guilt told her something else. Something more hopeful. There was a story there that only he could reveal.

So Rey waited. Patiently. 

The words that finally broke the spell surprised her.

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” he muttered, still not looking up from his boots.

“You needed to,” Rey said, shifting her skirts to face him. “You wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise.”

“I’ve ruined this.” The Major motioned around them. “Our celebration.”

“Nothing could ruin this, Major.” And it was true. The sentiment of his actions and the beauty of this place couldn’t be tainted.

“Not even the mentioning of patricide?” The question was said with dark humor. “I’d think admitting to killing one’s own father would do the trick.” 

“Not even that.” Rey kept her tone light. 

“Why aren’t you more horrified? I just admitted to murdering my father.” He finally looked up from his boots, his eyes caught between wariness and astonishment.

“Because you haven’t told me the whole story.”

“What if that was the whole story?”

“It wasn’t.”

“You and your faith.” There was no compliment in his voice as his gaze returned downward. Rey studied him for a breath before she reached out, slowly, and slipped her hand in his, her fingers weaving between his just as he had done for her when she spoke about her mother. His abrasiveness no longer sent her off kilter. Rey recognized it for what it was now: armor—something to deflect whatever he was actually feeling. 

She watched his eyes flicker from his boots and to their hands. 

“Tell me,” Rey whispered, leaning closer with an encouraging tilt of her head. She felt, more than heard, the shuddered breath he let out, as if already a burden was lifting from his shoulders.

“You remember I told you about my parents sending me away to live with my uncle?” he asked. When Rey nodded, the Major continued. “I spent years there. My uncle was the most devout of Quakers. The rules were endless. The strictest of moral codes and propriety were always to be upheld. I felt like I couldn’t breath—like I was trying to fit into a life that was not my own. But I tried so that I could go back home to my parents.”

“But it wasn’t enough.”

“No.” The word came out as a sigh. “No. Trying was not enough. I failed. I was too wild for my uncle. For every step forward, I would eventually fall two steps back. And the more exasperated my uncle became, the more angry I became at my parents for leaving me with him. My only reprieve came in the short visits from General Snoke.”

Major Ren made eye contact with her then, his gaze searching—waiting—as if he expected a noise or look of disapproval. He wouldn’t be wrong to expect one, but Rey forced such a reaction away. Now was not the time to show such a thing. 

After realizing that she was giving no response, the Major continued. “He and my parents had been close acquaintances. When he had learned that I’d been sent away, he wanted to pay his respects to me and my uncle. General Snoke visited often. My uncle hated him.” Major Ren let out a snort of amusement. “But Snoke understood me. Understood that I felt trapped there. He would take me out shooting and saw that I had a knack for it. He offered me a place in his regiment, but I always turned it down. Until . . .”

“Until?”

Hurt flashed in his eyes. “Until my father came to see me after a year and didn’t like what he saw. I lashed out in anger. I was so mad. So mad that he had left me there and had never visited to at least see how I was. General Snoke did, but my own father didn’t. And when he did he was still disappointed in me. That’s when I realized that my father would never care about me. Not like Snoke did. I joined the army the next day.”

“Major,” Rey whispered. A sad smile graced his lips.

“I spent years pouring my energy and life into the army. And you know what? I found something I was good at. General Snoke trained me and shaped me into the man my father and uncle never could. Enough trying to fit within a life of religious sanctity and constant control. I was allowed to pour all my emotion and energy into something I simply was. Of course, this was all before Lexington and Concord.” 

Rey sucked in a breath at the names of the battles that started all of this—this revolution and her evolution from a girl to woman and a woman to a spy. The start of something that took away the man she had begun to see as a father and the start of something that had obviously broken and reshaped the man beside her. She shifted on the bench, her skirts rustling around her. Major Ren’s gaze danced between his boots and the hem of her dress. 

“Snoke wasn’t a General yet and our regiment moved often. After the fighting erupted, we were sent to quell smaller disputes outside of Lexington and Concord. We moved so much that I can’t fully place where it happened—that time is a blur for me in more ways than one—but I do know we had come to stop riots and that we were met with Minutemen. I remember scanning the crowd. There were so many people there mixed with the militia. So many bystanders. I was . . . worrying about if they would all turn on us when I saw him.”

“Your father,” Rey breathed, understanding crashing into her. 

“Yes. My father.” Major Rell into a dark, contemplative silence, his gaze growing distant once more—trapped in a memory. “The crowd started throwing things at our regiment. Yelling obscenities. I felt caught between the chaos erupting around me and the realization that my father was there and that I couldn’t tell if he was simply a bystander or one of them. The rebels. Then there was a gunshot. I still don't know who shot first. Snoke ordered us to open fire. And—” His breath caught and Rey held her own, though she knew how this story now ended. “And I shot. And then I reloaded and fired again.”

Rey’s breath left her in quiet and painful understanding. A shiver went down her spine at the familiarity of his story. A horrendous situation that sounded just like the one that drove her into being a spy. One that sounded just like—

Major Ren’s hand tightened around hers, pulling her from her thoughts. Drawing their intertwined hands to her lap, she stared down at the ink stained fingernails of an artist and the blisters of a man who had held a rifle pointed at his own father. These were the hands of a man who had followed orders. It all seemed to mirror Anna’s own choice between warning Hewlett or saving the men of Little Egg. What choice did any of them truly have in this revolution? That realization shook her to her core. No, it shook all that had led her to this moment. But she couldn’t focus on that. Not now. Not when the Major was falling apart before her.

“Major, you can’t know if you were the one to . . .” Rey couldn’t finish the sentence, a deep ache settling in her stomach for him and his father—a man she didn't even know.

“But that’s just the thing,” he said, his head jerking up, his eyes meeting hers with a feverish anger. “I will never know if I was the one that killed him, but I do know I didn’t hesitate when Snoke ordered us to fire. I know that I didn’t even hesitate to reload. I did it. No thought. No questioning. I might as well have been the one to kill him.”

Rey shook her head, a need to help creeping up inside her. “You were given orders. You couldn't—”

“When I saw him walking in the crowd I felt so much hatred.” The Major’s face contorted into something resembling disgust, his eyes brightening as if lit from within by an untempered flame. Rey could see his edges beginning to fray. “And that was all I felt when I pulled the trigger. Stop trying to absolve me of what I have done.”

“I’m not trying to absolve you,” Rey whispered. 

“No. You are just trying to find reasons to twist me back into the man you thought I was.” His words were filled with venom as he yanked his hand away from hers. He turned away from her then, his face shadowed by the angle and the trees around them. Rey flinched. It felt like the cold slap of rejection even though she knew exactly what he was doing.

Taking a steadying breath, she pushed the harshness of his words and her feelings to the side and tried again.

Rey reached out and cupped his cheek, gently turning him to face her. She watched his eyelids flicker in confusion, lashes brushing against her thumb as she slid her fingers into his hair and pulled him a breath closer.

“I think it's you who is twisting yourself into the man you think you are,” Rey said, firmly. That seemed to break his fever, the flame fading from his eyes, his lips worrying in a way that was only his. A hiccup of emotion escaped him as some tears came free and ran down his face, catching on her wrist. Rey softened her tone. “Someone without a soul would not grieve and carry guilt as you do.”

With a sharp breath, Major Ren’s hands reached for her waist and tangled in the fabric of her dress, dragging her to him. A surprised gasp escaped her as he dropped his head to her shoulder, his face pressing against the skin of her neck. His hair tickled her as he shook his head, his words murmured against her. “I didn’t hate him. I don’t think I ever truly did.” 

Rey felt something inside her twist at his admission. Shifting on the bench, she wrapped her arms around him, drawing him into her embrace, her fingers threading through his hair. She felt his hands untangle from her waist and his arms curl around her until they seemed as if they were one person. In that moment, she wished nothing more than to call him by his true name, but her own haunting truths held her back. “Kylo. I’m so sorry.” 

“I realized that when I saw his body.” Rey could feel the cold press of tears tracing down her neck and into the bodice of her dress, but no racking sobs. While Major Ren was like a raging fire in anger, in sadness he was like a hovering storm. His next words were so quiet they were barely there. “You spoke of choices. But the truth is that I stole away my choice and my father’s. I can never be reconciled now. Not in this life.”

Rey closed her eyes, remembering the moment she had realized that for herself—that she would never have the chance to speak to her parents and to ask them why they had abandoned her. “No. But you can search for that reconciliation within yourself.”

“How?” Major Ren lifted his head and leaned back to take her in, his eyes rimmed red. “How can I when what I did was . . .” As his words faded away, Rey leaned her forehead against his, her brows furrowing as words spoken to her from long ago bubbled to the surface—the low rumble of Han’s voice over the crackling of a fire pulling her back from the dark place Major Ren was in now.

“What you did wasn’t right,” she said. “But nor was it wrong. It is something in between. Something gray and untethered. Something human. It was a mistake, Major. One you will carry with you. Now it is just a matter of choosing how you will carry it.”

“And if I can’t carry it?” he asked. 

“You can,” she said. “I know you can because I have done it.” Thoughts of losing Wexley twisted together with memories of a past she wished she could forget—guilt that would always linger with her. Rey held the Major’s face gently between her hands, fingers brushing away his tears. “And on the days it feels too heavy, I will be here. I’ll help you.”

“Why?” Major Ren drew away. “Why do you want to?”

“I know what it’s like to feel trapped, Major, and how freeing it is to have someone choose to shoulder the burden with you.” Han had done it for her when she had arrived in the Colonies and her past threatened to drag her under. She could never repay him that kindness—the chance long stolen from her—but she could pay it forward to a man who seemed, in this moment, just like her. “How could I deny you that?”

The Major blinked, eyes clearing, his hand reaching up to hold one of her hands to him. They sat frozen like that, taking in all that they had said to one another, the scents of the Sago Palms lulling them into a more peaceful place.

“Are you feeling better?” Rey asked.

He nodded against her hand, his head turning to brush his lips against her palm in a fleeting touch. She held her breath as he slowly pulled away. “I feel . . . not better, but lighter now that you know.”

A swirl of happiness tangled inside her. It was a start. “Good.” 

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“I don’t think I will ever get used to this,” Major Ren murmured, his eyes tracing over her face in wonderment, the sway of despair starting to drain away from his countenance.  

“What?”

“Your selflessness. Your heart.”

Rey felt a smile twist at her lips even though she had the urge to disagree with him. “I’m your friend, Major. You will have to get used to it.” 

His eyes tightened and his expression seemed to harden almost imperceptibly. “Friends. Yes.”

Rey felt her stomach drop in panic at the disappointed and distant quality in his voice. “Don’t you want to be friends?”

He was silent, studying her, before brushing her loosened hair behind her ear, his thumb brushing along its edge softly. “No.” The Major shook his head. “No, I don’t want to be your friend.”

Those words should have felt like rejection to Rey.  But they didn’t. And it was because there, in his voice and in his eyes, she saw something so completely the opposite of rejection that it left her feeling off balance as if she was standing on the edge of a ship, the ocean roiling below her. She had seen that same look in the study. But that had been a mistake, them simply caught up in the moment. This was different. It couldn’t be . . . 

The crunch of boots on dirt and gravel cut off her thoughts.

“Oh. My apologies.” 

Rey yanked away from the Major and came to a stand, a blush burning across her skin at Faneuil’s apologetic gaze. 

“Mr. Faneuil.” She fell into a curtsey in an attempt to hide her embarrassment. She heard the Major cough behind her and rise from the bench. 

“I did not intend to interrupt . . .” He trailed off, giving Major Ren a sly smile. Rey’s skin felt like fire now, her mind wandering to what Faneuil must be assuming had happened what with their clothes wrinkled and their hair in disarray. Lord.  Something beyond propriety. In his greenhouse. 

“There was nothing to interrupt,” Rey said, quickly, flashing an apologetic smile. “I assure you.”

“Yes, of course.” Faneuil nodded before turning his attention to a satchel held in his arms. Rey followed his gaze, turning her mind from less mortifying thoughts. Or, in the case of the Major, confusing thoughts.

“You brought the plans?” 

A bright, excited spark of energy radiated off of Faneuil. “Yes! Here.” He handed the leather bag to her with flourish. “They are the outer design and the interior architecture. But if you want to know more about the details, I would suggest calling upon Jarek Yeager.”

Rey glanced up in surprise. “The blacksmith?”

“Yes. He helped with the designing and the building. He is quite a nice fellow.”

“Yes. Yes, I’ve heard that.” 

“Anyways, you are most welcome to keep the plans for as long as you wish. You can bring them back to me anytime you wish.”

Shaking her head, Rey moved to hand back the satchel. “I couldn't. These must mean so much to you.”

Faneuil held up his hands. “From what I’ve heard from Major Ren, they couldn’t be in safer hands.”

Rey heard the Major come to stand beside her, his coat rustling with each step. “Without a doubt, Faneuil.”  Daring not to look at him, she kept her gaze on the satchel.

“If you are done touring the greenhouse, I would be happy to invite you in for some tea,” Faneuil said. Rey opened her mouth to refuse, wishing nothing more than to return to Raddus House and gather her thoughts, but then remembered her place. She couldn’t refuse a man of his station more of their time. As if sensing her refusal, the Major reached a hand out to Faneuil’s shoulder.

“Another time, I think it is best that Miss Niima and I return home,” he said. 

“Of course,” Faneuil said. He looked at both of them with a warm smile. “You are most welcome to return anytime to visit.”

“Thank you,” Rey said, dipping into another curtsey before she and the Major were led down the winding path of the greenhouse and out of paradise, the smell of the greenery following her through the house and into the bitter, winter air.

 

********

 

Outside of the greenhouse and away from the initial, overwhelming emotion of the Major’s revelations, Rey fell into contemplation. Slowly, piece by piece, Major Ren’s words came back together.  _ Riot. Bystanders. British soldiers and Minutemen. A gunshot. Shooting into a crowd.  _ Rey tightened her grip on the satchel in her arms, blinking away the snowflakes catching in her eyelashes. It was how Han was taken from her. Exactly how he was taken. He had been innocent, refusing to be part of any war, and still the British had shot him dead as he had tried to escape a town just outside of Concord. It was what had driven her to siding with the rebels. His death would forever be on those soldier’s hands. And for so long, she had held them in contempt. She had sworn to rid them from their colonies and free herself and the others from their oppression.

Rey looked up at Major Ren, his profile outlined by the evening sun that was breaking through the thinning clouds. He was one of them: a British soldier—one who had opened fire on a crowd of rebels and bystanders—someone who had been at the riots surrounding Lexington and Concord. 

Rey tightened her grip on the satchel, her fingernails leaving indents in the leather. The horrifying thought crossed her mind then that Major Ren could easily have been one of the men that killed Han . . . the only father she had ever known. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly as if she could blind herself of that notion. There was no clear answer. He could have been there. But he also, just as easily and just as likely, may not have been. So many riots and fights had erupted after that first gunshot of the revolution. Who was to say? Who was to know?

Rey opened her eyes. She should hate him after learning this. But she couldn’t and that terrified her because it dismantled everything. Every reason and every small feeling of anger and hatred that had overtaken her after Han’s death had been directed at the British but most especially at the men who had taken him away from her. It had been so easy to find faceless men in redcoats disgusting and abhorrent.

But she could no longer do that with the man walking beside her.   

No. Not after feeling the waves of grief and guilt that emanated from him. Not after seeing the haunted look in his eyes as he told her what he had done. Lord, help her. He was just a man. A broken man who happened to be on the opposite side of a war he didn’t even ideologically believe in, even if she did for the sake of freedom for her friends and Han’s remaining family. It was all so damning and so terrifyingly confusing.

“Miss Niima?”

His deep voice drew her back to their cold, wintery reality as they made their way into the marketplace, small groups of townspeople trudging through the snow with them. Major Ren was staring at her with a worried crinkle between his dark eyes. 

“Yes?”

“You have been incredibly quiet. Are you all right?”

“Yes.” The response came too quickly and sounded false to her own ears. “Yes. I’m fine. Just . . . tired.” She moved the satchel’s strap to her shoulder.

“I see.” He studied her a moment longer before tipping his hat against the wind. “I am sorry. I feel as though I burdened you too much today.”

“No,” Rey said, quick to alleviate such worries. “No. Please, don’t apologize. I am glad you shared with me. I feel as though I understand you better.” She watched the worry melt from his face with a lighter heart. 

“Miss Niima, there is something else I wanted to speak to y—”

The loud, ruckus of clattering wheels cut him off and sent them stepping off the main road to allow wagons to pass them. Even through the bleariness of snowfall, Rey could see the bright red of uniforms. Soldiers laying on their backs in the open space of the wagons. And even from a distance, the groans of wounded men reached her ears. Major Ren strode up to a man following the caravan on horseback.

“What has happened?” he called up. The soldier looked down from his gray-spotted horse with a dismayed look.

“Major Ren,” he greeted. “We were sent ahead from Little Egg. The rebels were more fortified than we first thought. We’ve been ordered to bring the wounded and dying back here to York.” 

“It was a loss then?”

“Aye, Sir. A complete loss.” With a final nod, the soldier kicked his horse into a gallop to catch up with the wagons. 

_ A complete loss.  _ Rey rejoiced in the victory. How could she not? But her next thought stole away such gladness as the Major returned to her side. She looked up at him with panic.

“Anna.”

Major Ren blinked. “What?”

Rey didn’t wait to explain and instead picked up speed, breaking all sense of propriety in a mad dash to the Wexleys’ home.  

“Miss Niima! Wait!” he called, but she didn’t wait. She couldn’t. The snow and the wind swirled around her as she raced through the marketplace and to that familiar corner with the tree outside the parlor window. Rey heard the Major’s footfalls behind her as she skipped up the steps and to the door, not hesitating to frantically knock on the cracking wood.

When the door opened, she was greeted with a rush of warm air and the glassy eyes of Anna Wexley.  Rey felt her heart drop.

“Miss Niima. Major Ren,” she greeted with a nod, only a small flicker of surprise crossing her features at the Major’s presence. “Please, come in out of the weather.” After stepping into the hall, Rey skipped all formalities and reached for Anna’s hand.

“Hewlett? Is he . . .” Rey couldn’t say it—couldn’t dare believe it. Anna looked down at Rey’s hand in her own and gave a wobbly smile. 

“Alive.” The word came out in a happy breath. 

“Thank God.” Rey felt her body sag in relief. 

“I’m glad to hear such news,” Major Ren said, removing his hat. A loud cough escaped the parlor just beyond along with the rustling of blankets.

“You haven’t told them the worst yet, my dear,” a cracking voice said. Major Ren and Rey looked to Anna in surprise. Miss Wexley brushed away tears with a low laugh. 

“Edmund, I’m sure, would be glad of some visitors,” Anna said, guiding them into the parlor where Hewlett was laying on the sofa, blankets draped around him. He took in all of them with glazed eyes, his skin a sickly pale. 

“Well, I'm glad to see you again, Miss Niima. But, frankly, I never expected Major Ren to pay me a visit.”

“Sir,” Rey murmured in horror. “You’ve been injured.”

“Quite,” he said, shifting with a wince. “Gunshot to the leg. It bloody well hurts.”

“Why aren’t you with the rest of the men? The barracks have some of the best medical attendants in the Royal Army,” Major Ren said. 

“Exactly what I pointed out,” Anna said, her tone admonishing. “He wouldn’t listen to me.”

Hewlett shook his head. “They have already done what they can for my leg. Now all I can do is rest. And what better place to rest than with you, my love.” He reached out for Anna then, taking her hand in his with a wan smile. 

“You fool,” she whispered, kneeling beside the couch, her fingers brushing across his forehead and into his hair. 

“For you, always.” Hewlett coughed and shifted again, trying to get comfortable, his movements lethargic and words slightly slurred. “At least I know I won’t die just yet. And maybe, by the time they request men from the north, I will be able to go south with the rest of our regiment.” 

“Roberts’ regiment will be a part of the Southern Campaign?” Major Ren asked, his voice hardening. Rey tilted her head at his tone.

“Possibly,” Hewlett muttered, his eyes flickering as he began to drift off. 

“I gave him some laudanum before you arrived,” Anna said, leaning down to kiss his forehead before standing up. “He is in more pain than he is letting on.” 

“Why is he on the sofa, Miss Wexley?” Major Ren asked, stepping closer to Hewlett.

“As soon as he arrived here, he demanded to be near me.” Anna shook her head. “After the other men left, I, and the others, didn’t have the strength to move him.”

“If you permit me, I can move him to his room.”

“That would be most helpful,” Anna said. “Thank you, Major.” 

Taking on most of his weight, the Major lifted Hewlett with the help of Anna's steward and carried him to his room down the hall. After the men were out of site, Rey turned to Anna.

“I’m so sorry we intruded, but I had to know if you were all right.”

Anna shook her head. “I'm glad you came. And as you can see, I was right. He came back to me.” Rey could hear the tightness of ache in her voice. Hewlett had come home, yes, but he had come back injured. An injury that may never leave him the same.

“I'm glad of it.” She looked down at her hem for a moment before deciding to continue. “I would be happy to bring some of our Calendula from Raddus House. It has healing properties. It may help prevent infection.”

“Thank you, Miss Niima, Edmund and I would be grateful.” 

They fell into a silence then, staring at each other for a time, so many questions reflected in their eyes. Had Anna found the man who the Major had met with? How was the network? Had Rey discovered the key to the letters? All had answers, but none that could be spoken aloud. The reason addressed not a moment later.

“So you were with Major Ren when you found out?” Anna asked, her eyebrows raised in curiosity. “I never expected to be visited by such a high ranking officer.” 

“Yes, I was.” It was all Rey could think of to say.

“Miss Wexley,” Major Ren said, bringing the women’s attention to the hall just beyond the parlor. His frame was so large that it appeared as if he had to hunch in the doorway to look at them. “Hewlett is all settled. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No. I think that is all. I am obliged to you for all your help, Major.” Both gave each other a gracious nod, though the Major’s was much stiffer. Something was wrong. Rey could tell.

“We should be off, Miss Wexley, but I will be back in the following days with the Calendula,” Rey said, giving her a knowing look that was returned with a glimmer of amusement. 

“Thank you, Miss Niima.” 

After they had said their goodbyes, Rey and the Major stepped back out into the cold night, the press of darkness now starting to surround them. The air was more frigid before and pale gray of the sky left everything feeling more eery as they made their way back to Raddus House. 

The only noise that accompanied them was the crunch of their shoes against the snow crusted ground. The Major had fallen into a quiet stillness that Rey didn’t want to disturb. Though it did begin to make her nervous as waves of frustration started to ebb off of him.

By the time they made it to Raddus House and inside, the tension within him had pulled so tight that Rey felt it may snap completely, but it did not scare her off.  She followed behind him as he moved into the sitting room and threw off his coat, letting it land haphazardly on the couch. With careless and loose movements, he moved to the side table where a decanter and glasses sat and poured himself some brandy. In the low light of the room, the candlelight winked off the glass and cast shadows across his face. 

Rey stood, watching him from the doorway, before stepping inside. “The reason for your early return and the reason you were so angry yesterday was because General Lee refused your advice on the Southern Campaign.”

Major Ren smiled darkly around the rim of his glass, his breath fogging the crystal. “Yes. Your observation skills are impressive, Miss Niima.” He collapsed into the sofa, his arms spread open along its back. He was angry. But not in a way that Rey had seen before. She wasn’t sure what frightened her more: an explosion of rage or the coiled, silkiness of an irritated snake about to bite.

“What happened?” Rey asked, sitting across from him in one of the high back chairs and setting the satchel at her feet. 

Major Ren stared down at his glass as if it held the answers she sought. “When I arrived, General Snoke was already there, along with Peavy and Hask. Lee wouldn’t listen to me. They immediately disregarded my intel and my opinions.” He let out a scoff-like laugh. “Snoke used to trust me, but ever since I moved to intelligence, he rebuffs my every move.”  The Major sat forward, elbows on his knees, his glass of brandy hanging from his hand. 

“Why does he do so?” Rey asked. She couldn’t fathom the General’s actions if he had put so much faith in Kylo before. 

“I left Snoke’s regiment a year ago. I wanted to prove my worth in my own way. He hasn’t approved.” Major Ren ran a hand across his mouth. “Now I am treated like a child. My failures thrown at me like daggers. Even with stable intel that has helped their armies all they can see is what I have done wrong. I feel as though I am back in my Uncle’s home once more, where nothing is good enough. If only they could see what I’ve accomplished.”

Rey’s attention caught on that last word, her mind buzzing with opportunity. It was perfect—the opening she had needed for her plan . . . lord, the plan she had forgotten all about in this crazy, mess of a day. But could she do it? She took in his drawn and frustrated expression. Could she exploit his situation so heartlessly? Rey straightened in her chair, knowing she didn’t have a choice. But maybe it didn’t have to be heartless. Maybe it could benefit both of them. 

Standing from her chair, Rey moved to sit next to the Major. 

“Maybe you can show them,” she said. 

“What do you mean?”

“I told you once that this is all a game to men like Peavey and the others. I think it’s time that you started to play like they do, Major.”

“And how do you suggest I go about doing that, Miss Niima?” he asked, taking a sip of his brandy.

“By bringing in more players,” Rey said. “Let them know that they aren’t the only ones you can turn to. Showcase your influence, but do so in a way that shows confidence and flair. It will blind them to your calculations while simultaneously showing them exactly what it is you’ve accomplished. Parade it in front of them so they can’t help but see your connections and power.” 

Major Ren’s eyebrows raised at the passion and excitement in her words. “I like the sound of that. But how would I go about showcasing such a thing?”

Rey smiled. “A house party.”

“A house party,” Major Ren repeated with a laugh. 

“Yes. It is a perfect place to show your influence and to introduce General Snoke to all that you have accomplished. It is a setting you can control while providing you with opportunities to meet others to bring to your side. You can’t continue to influence those around you by yourself.”

The Major sat back in the sofa with a contemplative look. “I’m going to have to socialize, aren’t I?”

“Without a doubt.” Rey nodded. “But I think you can do it, don’t you?”

A pause and then: “I daresay I can.” He turned to look at her. “With some help.”

“A house party then?” Rey asked.

He took another sip of his brandy, a cheshire grin taking over. “A house party it is.”

In her mind, Rey heard the first domino fall into place.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Until next time! :D
> 
> [InfiniteBlackRose’s Tumblr](https://infinitelyblackrose.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [A Spy’s Game Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5CynEFYJALjYPTcRBYPrKK)


	26. Three Weeks and Counting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> I'm sorry, we aren't to the party quite yet but I promise it will be happening next chapter . . . along with some other developments . . .  
> Anyways! I hope you enjoy this chapter and thank you all for all your lovely comments and all your support!
> 
> Also! Please check out these gorgeous edits by @hawkofmay on Tumblr:  
> [Major Ren](https://infinitelyblackrose.tumblr.com/post/185646042233/hawkofmay-a-spys-game-by-infinitelyblackrose)  
> [Miss Niima](https://infinitelyblackrose.tumblr.com/post/185646031303/hawkofmay-a-spys-game-by-infinitelyblackrose)  
> And these beautiful edits by @hotty-toddy-rebel-force on Tumblr:  
> [Major Ren](https://infinitelyblackrose.tumblr.com/post/183823695218/mood-board-aesthetic-for-major-ren-revolutionary)  
> [Miss Niima](https://infinitelyblackrose.tumblr.com/post/183823697483/mood-board-aesthetic-for-rey-niima-revolutionary)  
> 

Three Weeks Until the Party

“Three weeks. That is the timeframe we will be working with,” Rey said, crossing her arms and leading against the wood of the barn. “You’ll have to find a way to introduce the idea of some of your officers taking leave without it seeming too convenient of a timeframe.”

Poe ran a hand down his face. “How do you know this will even work? One of our soldiers can’t just walk into York.”

“No, but a turncoat invited by Major Ren can.” Rey looked pointedly at Poe. “I’ve been able to read some of the letters the Major has sent out. I haven’t been able to discover a name or an alias but the traitor and Major Ren appear to be negotiating compensation. The turncoat won’t be able to resist a face to face meeting that will give him the chance to ingratiate himself with Generals of the British Army.”

“That’s if Ren even decides to extend an invitation to an important operative of his and risk exposure to a wider population.” Poe shook his head with doubt.

“Major Ren is impulsive. It's a risk, but one that has a higher chance of benefiting him. Of both men involved,” Rey insisted. “The turncoat is not completely happy with the terms of their deal. It seems as if he wants a commission from the British with more pay, something the Continental Army can’t provide. The man must know he can only push for that outcome in person. And Major Ren is desperate to show General Snoke that he has accomplished something that no-one else has: that he has turned a high ranking officer of the Continental Army. Major Ren won’t be able to resist proving himself to the one man he looks up to as a father. Not with something so advantageous as this.”   

Poe tapped at his chin, his head tilted in consideration, but doubt still hung heavy in his eyes. Rey let out a loud sigh and pulled away from the door.

“What have you to lose, Dameron?”

“The loss of time and resources actually. With winter here, we need all the manpower we can get.”

“But none of that will mean anything if we can’t weed out a high-ranking spy that is heading our army off at every turn. You said it yourself that the British seem to be one step ahead again. It must be intel that is coming from this turncoat and provided to the Major. He practically told me he had given as much to his superiors.” Rey raised her eyebrows, knowing she had won. Poe Dameron’s subsequent silence told her so.

And then, of course, his groan and eyeroll. “Damn you, Niima.”

Rey smiled. “So you will do it.”

“I will speak to General Washington and Leia. Yes.”

“Good.” Rey couldn't contain her enthusiasm. This would draw out the spy. It had to. “Do you have any men you suspect?”

A frustrated look crossed Poe's face. “Whoever this spy is, he is good at avoiding bait and laying low. But there is a small faction of our officers that are discontent with pay. They have been causing trouble in camp.”

“So you think it's one of them?”

“Not exactly.” Poe shook his head with raised brows. “There is a handful of officers that keep quiet but seem to always be near or around these men, whispering in the ears of the disrupters. I think the spy is one of them. I just don't know which one.”

“I see.” The description matched someone willing to turn traitor. Then again men desperate for an income had become common in camp, even before Rey left. “What will you do to alleviate suspicion about the timing?”

“I will have Washington announce leave to some of the disrupters and the men around them. If we turn it into something positive like an opportunity to visit family then--”

“They will all think this is about moral boosting. A tactic to stop their protesting.”

“Exactly.”

“They will be distracted by that motivation and who ever the spy is may not suspect a thing.”

“Well we can hope,” Poe huffed. “This still may not work.”

“He will come to the party, Poe. He has no choice. And when he does I will be there to see his face.” Rey felt the power of their plan buoying her spirits higher than they had been in a long while.

Poe chuckled. “Your faith has no bounds, Niima.”

 _You and your faith._ Rey shivered as the words floated in her mind, the dark rasp of the Major's voice echoing through her thoughts. Yes. Her and her faith. It was all she had, but it had gotten her this far, hadn't it? She looked up at Poe with a confident smile.

“If you'll excuse me, Dameron, I have a party to plan.”

 

Two Weeks Until the Party

 

The soft thud of paper hitting the floor drew Rey to a stop in front of the sitting room. Peering in, she found the Major hunched over the desk by the window—paper scattered around him, his hand caught in his hair in frustration. At first she thought he was drawing again but then she noticed his elegant handwriting tangled into a mess on the crumpled paper.

“I thought you had already sent out invitations,” Rey said, moving to sit across from him. She knew he had. When he had left for an errand, Rey had gone through his letters to make sure he had invited the turncoat. To her relief, he had.

He didn’t look up at her as he dipped his quill in his inkwell, spilling some of it onto the table. “All of them but one.” The tip of the quill scratched across the top of the parchment.  ""I can’t seem to put the right words in this letter.”

Rey tilted her head. “Who is it to?”

Major Ren paused in his writing to look up at her. “When you told me I need people on my side, I immediately thought of the man who introduced me to intelligence work. A few years into the war I met him and we began discussing how we needed an intelligence network. He and I were more like minded then I thought upon first meeting him.”

“Who introduced you to becoming an Intelligence Officer?”

“His name is John Andre.” Major Ren leaned back in his chair. “He is the most sociable and persuasive man I know. I think he may be able to help me. And he might even agree with me on the Southern Campaign.”

“I see. But why are you having a hard time writing him? You are running out of time, you know.” Rey couldn’t hold back the teasing in her voice. Major Ren’s lips twitched in a half-smile.

“I am having a hard time not sounding desperate.” He shuffled the parchments. “But now that you are here, I am thinking I just need a break.”

“Ah, so I am your excuse for avoiding this letter for a little bit longer.”

Major Ren leaned forward, his elbows pressed against the table. “But what a good excuse you are.”

Rey fell silent in shock at his forwardness. Seeing her change in demeanor and realizing exactly what he had insinuated, the Major drew back with a loud cough, a shy look suddenly overtaking him. Watching that shift in his expression, Rey relaxed a little and let out a small, awkward laugh that drew his attention back to her.

“I doubt anyone could disagree with you, Major.”

“Is that arrogance I am hearing from you, Miss Niima? I’m shocked.” Major Ren crossed his arms, the discomfort of the moment passing.

“You must allow me some vanity, Sir.”

They shared a smile of understanding before the Major nodded, almost to himself.

“Tell me how the preparations are coming.”

Rey let out a relieved sigh at the change in conversation. “Well, we’ve decided to set up the sitting room as a place for cards and the dining room will be opened up for a place to mingle. Oh! And we are moving all the furniture out of the parlor for dancing.”

“Dancing,” Major Ren said, rubbing a finger across his lower lip. “I think that is a wonderful idea.”

“Thank you, Rose and I agree that it will be a great diversion. Abigail is going out today to enlist the help of some local musicians.”

“It will bring warmth and joy to the party. Something all men need during this war.” He glanced up at her. “Something I believe I need as well.” There was something there in his voice that gave Rey pause—some hidden insinuation.

“Major?”

“You will dance with me, won’t you?” he asked, eyes wide and bare. Rey let out a shocked laugh, thinking he must be joking. The disappointed twist of his lips told her otherwise.

“Major, you know that’s not possible,” Rey said, slowly. “I am your servant.”

“We have begun reshaping those roles, as I remember. The way in which we have been conducting ourselves has spoken to that.” He looked at her pointedly. Swallowing, Rey thought about her agreement to celebrate with him alone in the greenhouse. Yes. It wasn’t unfathomable for him to think that she agreed with his sentiments, but this was different.

“How we see each other and behave in private cannot follow us into the realm of public company. You must understand that.”  Rey felt her face twist in seriousness. “It would not be accepted by your guests for me to behave in such a way.”

“Don’t you want to rebel against what they think? What society thinks?” Major Ren asked, his voice wobbling in earnestness. “Why should it matter what they think of you or I?”

Rey nearly laughed at the irony of him asking her to rebel. If only he knew the half of it. She shook her head with an adamant look. “We can’t always have what we want.” Rey knew that better than anyone.

“Even if it is dancing.” His words held a mix of petulance and begrudging acceptance.

Rey took in his darkening face with exasperation. “If I was to dance with you or to even stand by your side, I would be seen as someone reaching beyond my rank . . . or I would be seen as your mistress. In either case, it would ruin us both.”

A pause and then: “Is that why you don’t acknowledge it?”  

Rey froze. “Acknowledge what?”

Major Ren cocked his head. “You know what.”

And Rey did know. But she couldn’t say it, because saying it to him made what she was beginning to realize real and that did her no good. No, such feelings were better left unacknowledged between them. Rey straightened in her chair, her hands brushing out the creases in her skirt.

“I’m sorry, Major, but I don’t know what you are speaking of.”

His dark eyes studied her from across the paper strewn table, his lips worrying in contemplation. She saw the moment he accepted her refusal to speak as an answer—the dark hurt that slowly carved itself into his once soft features. Rey felt her stomach drop as he leaned back in his chair, distance blossoming in his eyes. This moment had been more important that she had  first assumed. The Major had taken this as a rejection of all that had been left unsaid between them.

“My apologies, Miss Niima, it seems I was mistaken.”

Everything in her wanted to reject his words. Both of them knew he was not mistaken, but she had made the decision for it not to be spoken of. Regret tumbled through her, leaving behind the urge to take back what she had said or to reach across the table for him. Rey knew what she had done was right. It had to be when there was more than status between them and it was something she could never explain to him.

But there was a spark of fear now beginning to flicker inside her. One that warned her that driving a wedge between them could as easily guarantee her losing him as it would if he discovered she was a spy. And she couldn’t let that happen. She didn’t want that to happen.

That, too, frightened her.

Rey stood and moved her chair next to his. Major Ren followed each of her movements with curious eyes. When she sat in the chair, her elbow glanced across his arm.

“I may not be able to dance with you, but I can help you write this letter.” She looked up at him with a hopeful gaze. “If you allow me.”

A contemplative silence befell him, one that left Rey holding her breath. Major Ren’s gaze traced her face before he reached out and moved the inkwell to the middle of the table.

“I would like that.”

Rey smiled, but deep inside she felt the distance remain tethered between them.

 

One Week Until the Party

 

Rey fidgeted on the couch, her gaze trailing to the doorway with some nervousness.

“Hewlett isn’t here,” Anna said, setting her teacup down on the table beside her chair. “He is finally able to take small walks.”

Returning her attention back to Anna, Rey said, “the Calendula worked to stop his infection then?”

“Very well. Earlier this week he was finally able to stand. Day by day he has been regaining mobility. We are both thankful to you.”

“I am happy I could help you both.” Rey gave a small smile before looking down at her clasped hands.

“I’m assuming that checking in with us isn’t the only reason for your visit,” Anna said. Rey let out a soft laugh. She probably looked ridiculously pensive to Miss Wexley.

“No. I also wanted to ask if you had discovered anything else about the man that Major Ren had at Raddus House.”

Anna gave her a skeptical look. “No. Still nothing. I’m sure your party will draw him out along with the turncoat, Miss Niima. Now all we can do is wait.”

“Wait. Yes.” Rey shifted in her chair uncomfortably. Anna’s eyebrows lowered.

“There is something else you came here for.” Anna lowered her voice, concern crossing her face. “Whatever it is, I will not break your confidence. You are keeping me and Edmund a secret, it is the least I can do.”

Rey nodded to herself before straightening in her chair, finally gaining the courage to ask what she had wanted to all along. “When did you know your feelings for Hewlett were . . . more?”

“Oh.” Shock rang through her voice, her eyes widening in realization—the implication of the question loud and clear. Rey felt the urge to curl in on herself, but she resisted. Anna leaned forward. “Are you . . . with Major Ren?”

“I . . . I don’t know,” Rey whispered, her eyes tracing back and forth between her boots peeking out from underneath her hem. “I think I’ve been ignoring it and dismissing it for so long that I can’t fully understand what it is I’m feeling. But ignoring it is beginning to make me feel distant even when I’m with him. And I just wanted to speak to you because I think you are the only one who could understand what I’m going through.” A hiccuped scoff escaped her. “What a ridiculous thing to be so concerned about when we are in the middle of something so much bigger than ourselves.”

Anna Wexley rose from her chair and sat beside Rey on the couch, her hand settling on the crook of Rey’s arm. “It isn’t ridiculous. It’s actually quite frightening. And in your situation I think it is something far more unsettling than what mine ever was.”

“You went through this with Hewlett?” Rey asked.

“I did.” Anna nodded. “It was in the beginning. I denied my feelings for him for so long that I twisted them into something unrecognizable. It was . . . painful. And it took a toll on my roll as a spy and on my relationship with Edmund. It was distracting to say the least.”

“How did you uncomplicate it all?”

“I accepted my feelings for Edmund for what they were. After that I could separate the two versions of myself easier. The spy and the lover,” Anna said, gently. “But I think you already knew that.”

Rey let out an exhausted breath. “I don’t know if I can do that. Or that I should.”

Anna studied her. “Do you love him?”

“Love?” Rey looked at her startled. “No. No . . . this isn’t love. It can’t be. Affection maybe, but not love.” Yes, that is what it was.

“I see,” Anna said, doubt filling her voice. “But you care deeply for him.”

Rey fiddled with a loose thread on her skirt. “I do. I think. I enjoy spending time with him. He lets me . . . be me. And he is kind. Kinder than anyone realizes. I don’t want to lose his companionship because I’m confused by what I’m feeling. Or because of who I am.”  

“But you can’t see a way around any of that.”

“No. I can’t.”

Anna studied her for a moment. “Have you considering stepping away from being a spy?”

“What?” Rey looked up in shock. “Of course not.”

Anna nodded. “It wouldn’t be wrong of you to consider it.”

“I would not, no . . . could not do that. It would be betraying everything I have helped fight for. I already feel as if I’m betraying Leia and the others by having such feelings.”

“It is not betrayal to care for a good man,” Anna said, her voice pinched tight. “It took me a long time of agonizing over that very feeling to realize that. Don’t make the same mistake I made.”

“Did you consider walking away from it all? To be with Hewlett?” Rey looked over at her, thinking back to the time Anna had asked for Rey’s discretion about her relationship. In that moment, Miss Wexley had been adamant about her loyalty and her continued service to the cause. Had her stance once been in question? From the wistful expression crossing the other woman’s face, Rey already knew the answer.

“In the beginning, I did,” Anna said with a wry smile. “That was long before meeting you and before my father . . .” She trailed off into a sorrowful silence. “The cause now means as much to me as Edmund does. I couldn’t choose between them and so I have chosen both. It may catch up with me, but I will have no regrets if it does.”  

Rey leaned back into the soft cushions of the couch, everything feeling more complicated than it already was. Anna gave her an understanding look.

“I wish I could give you a simple answer, Miss Niima.”

“I wish you could as well. I like straightforward things and this is far from that,” Rey half laughed, the sound dry and frustrated.

“I will advise you though,” Anna said. “You may think that what you are feeling is merely a passing affection, but I would suggest taking the time to search deeper. I’ve seen you two together and how Major Ren looks at you. There is something more there. An acknowledgment of what you are actually feeling may give you more clarity.” Rey’s skin prickled at the similarity to what she was suggesting to what the Major had said to her. If only she could see what they did, without the blinding and overwhelming emotions of guilt and confusion and fear of what could come after.

“Or it may complicate it more.”

“It is already complicated,” Anna rebuffed with a smile. “Hiding away your feelings doesn’t change that, only the potential choice for you both.”

Rey let out a loud breath. “I can’t fight such rationale.”

“Whatever you choose to do, I promise I’ll keep your secret,” Anna said.

Looking up, the gratitude for the woman beside her overwhelming, Rey reached out and took Anna’s hand in her own. “Thank you.”

And Rey meant it, even as she heard her unease begin to whisper again, warning her not to release something as uncontrollable as her feelings for Major Ren—whatever they may be—because once they were free they could never be put back.

But those whispers were fainter than before thanks to Anna. Now, it was a matter of if that was a good or bad thing.

 

One Hour Until the Party

 

Rey moved in front of her mirror, the candlelight dancing across its reflective surface and creating shadows across her face. She turned this way and that, her lips pressed together in anxiety at what she saw in the mirror.

Was it too much? Would she be perceived as foolish for wearing such a dress? Rey turned to the side to take in the flow of fabric. The dress was simple in its design: a delicate blue with a floral pattern at the hemline, white linen that folded elegantly at the collar, and simple lace at the ends of the sleeves. It was the finest dress that she owned—a gift given to her by Leia before she left for York. She had had no occasion to wear it until now.

Smoothing out the skirt gently, Rey bit her lip and turned to look at the other dress on her bed. It was a simple, brown dress, one that was made to not draw attention—a servant’s dress and what she should wear, but—

Rey turned back to the mirror, loose curls framing her face as she pinched her cheeks to bring color to them. But she wanted to wear the dress at least once while she was here at York. And, if she were truly being honest with herself, she also wanted Major Ren to see her like this—as someone other than his servant . . . as a woman of worth, even if it was as false an image as her reasons for being at Raddus House.

_False._

That thought dragged her back to reality. She watched her eyes harden in the mirror, the disgust at her own reflection uncovered. Turning away, Rey made the decision to switch dresses, her hands beginning to work at the lacing holding it to her skin. It was better this way. Safer.

“Miss Niima!” a voice cried before her door swung open.

Rey stopped tugging at the lacing to look up at a frazzled looking Rose, clothes draped across her arm.

“Rose. What is it?”

“Oh.” Rose’s eyes widened even more. “Miss Niima, you look incredible.”

“Yes. Well. I’m about to change,” Rey said, reaching for the lacing again.

“No! You can’t change. It would be a shame if you did,” Rose said, stepping forward, setting the clothes on the bed and batting Rey’s hands away from her dress. With quick hands, she began relacing the dress.

“Rose!” Rey protested, but the shorter woman just shook her head.

“No protesting and no changing. We haven’t time for that anyways.”

“Has something happened?” Rey felt her eyebrows furrow in concern. Rose patted the lacing in place and smiled at her handy work before turning to the pile of clothes on the bed.

“Finn forgot to pick up the brandy from the Wexley’s. I’m going there now while Finn preps the stables for the guests and Abigail finishes cooking. In the meantime . . . I may have forgotten to press the Major’s regimentals.”

“Rose,” Rey sighed. It figured things would slip through the cracks at the last minute. “And you are afraid to give them to him late so you are hoping I will be the messenger. Is that right?”

“Well, he is likely to take it better from you . . .” She looked up at Rey with innocent eyes. Letting out a frustrated laugh, Rey shook her head.

“Hurry then. I will take care of the clothes.”

Taking Rey’s hands in hers with a gentle squeeze, Rose grinned. “Thank you, Miss Niima.” She bustled to the door, only pausing to wag a finger at Rey. “And don’t you dare swap dresses.” Rey opened her mouth to retort back but Rose had already disappeared with a giggle.

Rey glanced at the small clock on the mantel above her fireplace and sighed. If she hurried she would still have time to get his regimentals to him in good time. She pulled her charcoal iron from below her bed, cleared her desk, carefully scooped hot coals out of her dying fireplace and into the iron, and began smoothing the Major’s coat of any wrinkles.

Slowly, section by section, she trailed the iron down the arms and across the back, pressing the Major’s uniform back into perfection. The red of the uniform looked like a splash of brilliant paint in contrast with the dark wood of her desk. Part of her wanted to laugh at the fact that a rebel like her was treating a British uniform with such care until she remembered whose body it would cling to.

Stopping her ironing, she traced her fingertips along the lines of fine stitches, down the sleeves, and across the thick fabric of the cuffs. With each touch the freshly washed fabric gave off a sweet smell. But below that she could still smell _him._ Rey rubbed at her nose, picked up the iron and focused harder on the bottom of the coat where the wrinkles were resisting, casting aside her wayward thoughts.

Once his clothes were ready, Rey gently draped them over her arm and made her way to his rooms, hoping that he wouldn’t be upset at the delay. When she stepped up to his door, she took a deep breath before knocking.

“Come in.” His voice was muffled and distant. Rey opened the door, stepped in ready to apologize, and, instead, froze.

She took in a sharp breath.

Major Ren was bowed over a basin of water sitting on his desk and running his hands through his dampened hair. Drips of water trickled through his hair and down his neck, finding their way back to the water below in rhythmic plops. With wide eyes, Rey observed that his white shirt was untucked from his tan breeches and that he was barefoot, the paleness of his skin glowing against the wood floorboards.

He was perfectly undone.

“What is it Finn?” he asked, flipping his hair and sending flicks of water through the air, his lips twisted in slight discomfort as the cold of the water hit his neck and trailed down onto his shirt, pressing the material to his chest. He turned to face the door and stilled, taking in Rey, who was so obviously not Finn.

They stood a room apart, the only noise between them that of the water swaying in the basin, and studied each other. Major Ren’s eyelids dipped lower and his eyes took on a glazed look as they trailed down the outline of her dress and her unbound hair. Rey heard her heart beat louder and louder in her ears, the urge to cross the room to him overwhelming her. She broke eye contact and looked down at her feet trying to regain control.

“Lord. You’re beautiful.”

The words came out low and wistful, a dreamy quality hovering about them. Rey looked up in shock. Leaning against his desk, Major Ren’s lips quirked in an awkward smile as if he couldn’t quite believe he had said that aloud.

“Thank you,” Rey murmured, a warm feeling buzzing in her stomach. “And you look . . .” She trailed off with a blush, her eyes dancing down his appearance.

“Oh.” Major Ren straightened, his own ears turning rosy at the realization that he was practically undressed before her. “My apologies. . .” He shook his head and was starting to attempt to tuck his shirt in when he paused, noticing her direct and unwavering gaze. His eyes glanced down to where Rey’s attention was now stuck . . . on his chest.

The water had trickled down even lower, dampening the white linen into something opaque—his skin shone through, golden-hued in the dim candlelight. Rey took a steadying breath and dragged her attention back to his face to find a self-satisfied smirk now resting on his lips.

“I don’t know why you are smiling like that.” Rey snapped in self-consciousness.

“Don’t you?” he murmured, tilting his head. He looked at her in silence long enough to make her twitchy. Just as she was about to snap out another reply, he nodded towards her full arms. “You have my clothes.”

“Yes.” Rey felt relief crash through her at the diversion from her obvious . . . distraction.  “I’m sorry they are late.”

He crossed the room to her, his bare feet padding across the floorboards. Gently, he took his regimentals from her arms, his hands glancing across her forearm. The Major’s eyes flickered down to her bare skin. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Rey breathed as he stepped away and placed the clothes on his bed.

“You should leave your hair down.”

“What?” Rey blinked at the change in conversation. “I can’t. It isn’t proper.”

“Hmm.” Major Ren collapsed on his bed and began dragging his boots on. “Was it proper of you to look at me in such a way before, Miss Niima?”

“I . . . Well, I . . .” Rey couldn’t seem to find her voice as he gave her a teasing look.

“I’m sorry, it’s the nerves. They are making me more direct.” He shook his head as he stood and brushed off his trousers.

“You have no reason to be nervous, Major,” Rey said, her chin lifting. “Tonight will go exactly as planned. You’ll show them your competence.”

A low chuckle escaped him as he moved to stand before her. “I may not be able to dance with you, but it’s a comfort to know you will be there tonight with all your unreserved faith.”

Rey opened her mouth and closed it, words failing her. It didn’t seem to matter to him as a softness smoothed the tightness in his eyes.

“I would invite you to stay to watch me change, but something tells me you would think it improper.”

Rey smirked and gave a flamboyant curtsey, drawing away from him. “In that, you would be correct, Sir.” She turned with a huff, but his laughter followed her out the door.

It wasn’t until she was down the stairs that she reached out and steadied herself against the wall. Rey closed her eyes and tried to dispel the heat crawling across her skin, the image of his smile and the fine lines of his body blinding her from any rational thinking.

Slowly, she plucked at the small snippets of coherent thought: _need to do my hair, need to finish preparing for the party, need to forget what just happened_. After a breath, she was able to leave the wall behind.

Moving into her room to tie up her hair, Rey stared at her reflection in the mirror and attempted to chastise herself, but found that all she could do was smile, the whispers of unease fading far away from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Until next time :D
> 
>  
> 
> [InfiniteBlackRose’s Tumblr](https://infinitelyblackrose.tumblr.com/)  
> [A Spy’s Game Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5CynEFYJALjYPTcRBYPrKK)


	27. Major Ren Cordially Invites You . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
> Sorry for the late post. This chapter kinda turned into a monster of over 24 pages . . . so, I'm splitting it and allowing myself more time to edit the last half! It should be up in the next few days.  
> Without further ado, please enjoy the party!

 

**Rey**

 

Raddus House was filled to the brim with scents: the light fragrance of perfume, the fine dust of wigs, and the nose tickling smell of shoe polish. And the sounds! There was so much noise that Rey wondered at how the house had ever been as silent as it was only a half hour ago. 

The chattering male and female voices tangled together in a waltz all their own, the loud flickering of fans setting a steady tempo as the rooms grew warmer and warmer. And, there, in the background were the sighing strings of the musicians playing reels, enticing couples away from their verbal dances, if only for a moment.

Rey felt as if a new world had come crashing through the doors of Raddus House and swallowed her whole. It was marvelous and overwhelming and lonely, as if she was a stone caught in the middle of a river, the rush of water pushing past her with an earnest and unseeing energy. It had taken the whole half hour for her settle into the chaos of the party and to begin to refocus her attention towards what mattered: keeping up appearances and catching a spy and . . .

Turning from her place at the entryway, Rey peered out across the sea of red uniforms and brightly patterned dresses and into the sitting room, her gaze immediately catching on the Major. 

He stood at rigid attention, his hands clasped awkwardly behind his back. General Snoke hovered by his side, his face twisted into something resembling joy as he spoke with Peavy and Hask. Whatever was being discussed was irritating Major Ren. Rey could tell by the downward curl of his lips and how his hands were curled tightly into fists. 

Unlike Rey, Major Ren had been unable to relax into the new, noisy environment—his discomfort at being in a social environment obvious. But it wasn’t just that. After Snoke's arrival had been announced, the Major had grown more and more anxious, his gaze flickering to the front door every few moments. It was clear to Rey that he was worried that certain guests had not arrived yet (a worry that she herself was fighting against).

His aloof behavior, unfortunately, hadn't gone unnoticed by his guests. Rey saw the curious glances of the York gentlemen and the mocking faces of their wives hidden discreetly behind their fans. The gossip hung in the air, its buzzing as incessant as a fly's: how rude and unsociable and stern-looking this Major Ren was. And below all of that was the question they all left unspoken: why would man like him hold a party like this? And Rey simply couldn’t stand it.

 Moving a couple steps forward, she shifted closer to the doors and waited. It didn’t take long for the Major’s gaze to skip across the room towards her. When his eyes met hers, she saw some of his discomfort slip away. Rey gave him a small smile and made a point to roll her shoulders back and shake her hands a little. His eyebrows furrowed at her seemingly odd motions.

“Relax,” Rey mouthed to him, making a show of flopping her arms at her sides. His eyebrows dipped lower and his lips curled up. Letting out an exasperated huff, she began wiggling about. “Relax for Heaven’s sake.”  

Suddenly, his entire expression changed. A light lit within his eyes and he pressed his fist to his lips, holding in laughter. His whole countenance shifted from something stone-like to something warm and inviting, his shoulders shaking in barely concealed laughter. Rey felt a replying grin overtake her.

“See. That wasn’t so hard. Foolish—”

A loud cough stopped her short. Rey felt her whole body tense as she turned to face a trio of women with confused and disapproving looks cast across their faces like shadows. New arrivals that she had not heard enter the house. She recognized them as Madam Walsh and her two daughters—family of a wealthy merchant in town. Madam Walsh looked down her hawk-like nose at Rey in disapproval while the daughters snickered behind their fans. 

“Madam,” Rey said, dropping into a curtsey to hide her embarrassment. 

Madam Walsh raised one eyebrow imperiously. “Aren’t you going to take our shawls? Or are guests of the Major’s expected to handle everything themselves?” 

“Of course not.” Rey dragged a pleasant look across her face in an attempt to disguise her annoyance. She reached out for each of their shawls and moved to the small coat room beside the doors while the women preened and fixed windblown coiffures. 

"Mama, there is Major Ren over there!" One of the daughters whispered. Rey paused in hanging the last shawl, her head tilted in their direction. "My. He looks quite dour doesn't he? Mary can have him."

"Louisa!" Her sister whined. "I could never marry a man like that . . . I heard he beat a soldier and dumped his body in front of everyone in town."

"Hush, both of you! His character is of little consequence when compared with his status. And he is close to General Snoke. There is no need to be picky when you could be wealthy. However, there is the matter of how exactly to gain his attention." Madam Walsh adjusted the peacock feather in her hair as Rey came back to her place before the doors, her skin prickling in annoyance at how they spoke so degradingly of the Major, as if he were merely a pouch of gold to be traded for.

“You. Servant.” The commanding tone of Madam Walsh forced Rey to look upon her once more. “You know your Master’s preferences. What does he like in a woman?” Rey saw the two daughters stare at her with wide, curious eyes.  

Rey folded her hands primly before her and studied her rapt audience. She decided, then, she would not allow these women to twist themselves into potential matches for Major Ren. She didn’t think she could stand it. 

Rey smiled. “Honesty.”

The look that came upon Madam Walsh’s face was thunderous. If only she knew how much that answer hurt Rey in turn.

“Major Ren valuing honesty. What an amusing thought,” a male voice interjected, sending the women turning around with a frantic air. There by the front doors stood a man who had entered quietly behind them. He removed his tricorn hat with a grin, revealing bright blue eyes and a handsome face. “Though I’m only an acquaintance, I know Major Ren to be a man who hides behind the darkest of masks. But beneath it all, I believe there is a man as soft as a bunny.”

Mary moved past her mother and sister in hurried excitement, her pink fan nearly hitting Louisa in the face. “Is he truly?”

A knowing smirk overtook the man’s face as he shucked off his wool coat to reveal a red uniform beneath it. “Truly. But as to his interest in women . . . I will say it is quite non-existent.” 

Rey moved around the small gathering with a knowing smile of her own. This man may be an acquaintance, but he was wrong about some things. “Can I take your coat, Sir?” 

“Yes. Thank you, Miss.” The man handed her the coat with a kind nod, but just as she was about to put it away she heard a familiar voice calling out towards them.

“Andre! You came,” Major Ren said, parting through the sea of people and to the entryway, General Snoke and Peavy following close behind him. As if sensing that they couldn’t compete with the amount of soldiers now surrounding them, Madam Walsh and her daughters slipped away, their expressions ranging from irritated to intrigued. Rey took a step back and observed the man in a new light. So this was John Andre.

“Ren. It’s good to see you again,” Andre said before turning his attention to the men beside him. “Peavy. General Snoke.” He gave a low bow.

“Major Andre,” Snoke said, a slippery smile creeping across his lips. “How . . . unexpected to see you so far north.”

“When Ren wrote me, I couldn’t reject the invitation,” Andre said. “How can a man turn down a party with all that York has to offer?” He turned to scan the room with a mischievous glint in his eyes, completely disregarding Snoke’s obvious disdain at his presence. Rey couldn’t help but smile at his infectious character. John Andre seemed to be a man who cared very little of what others thought and in turn was loved anyways. 

Knowing she had been loitering for too long, Rey moved to put Andre’s coat away, but a hand reached out and grabbed her elbow, stopping her. “Wait.” 

Rey glanced up to see the Major looking at her warmly before he returned his attention back to Andre. “Andre there is someone I would like to introduce you to. This is Miss Rey Niima. She is the head of my household staff and the one who suggested I hold this party.”

“Oh?” Andre turned his attention to her with interest along with all the other men. Rey had never felt so cornered by British Officers in her whole life. Beyond the Major, she saw Snoke regard her with cold calculation, his head tilted in obvious interest at the fact that she had prompted such an action on Major Ren’s part. 

“Yes,” Rey said, returning her gaze to Andre. “I thought it would be a good diversion from the war and the winter. But the rest of the staff take as much credit as I for putting together such a lively event.” 

John Andre stepped forward and took her hand in his own. “Well then.” He bent to kiss the back of her hand. “That explains everything. Only a beautiful woman could put together a party that reflects that beauty.” Andre scanned the room, his gaze lingering on a gathering of young women. “In everything.”

“They do say it takes a woman’s guiding hand to make the world turn,” Snoke sneered, his lips twitching into a half smirk. It took everything in Rey not to shiver at his tone and the look he gave her. It was not friendly. Not by any means.

“I wish I could say I agreed with that statement, General, but it seems to me that women have little say in how exactly it turns,” Rey replied, refusing to show how nervous he was beginning to make her. Sensing her unease, Major Ren stepped in front of her, his fingers brushing against her arm.

“There is something important I wish to discuss with you all tonight, specifically you Andre,” he said, nodding in the younger man’s direction. 

“Ah, so the party was a rouse to drag me into more serious matters,” Andre sighed. “I should have known. Can I at least drink and enjoy the company first?”

“I also invited you here for a party,” Major Ren said. “And anyways, not all my guests are here yet. Shall we take a turn into the dining room for some refreshments?”

“Sounds splendid,” Peavy muttered, breaking his silence with a bored tone. All the men turned toward the new distraction. Major Ren looked back to Rey, his expression apologetic. She nodded to him in acceptance before hurriedly putting Andre’s coat away.

When she returned, she found Abigail waiting for her. “Are you all right?”

“Quite.” Rey brushed off the front of her skirts. “Do you mind watching for guests? I need to take a turn around the rooms.”

“Of course.” Abigail took Rey’s place as she moved to wander through the richly colored dresses and finely pressed uniforms. It all felt like an illusion to her. The party, the interactions, and her part in it. 

Perhaps, that feeling of disconnect came from the fact that she was an outsider to it all: unacknowledged by the majority of men and women around her, looked down upon by the worst of them, and seen as a pretty bauble to others. 

Rey passed the parlor, purposely turning her attention away from the dancing couples. With quick steps she continued down the hall. A deep chuckle made her stop in front of the dining room doorway and peer in. 

Snoke, Peavy, Andre, and the Major stood in a circle, glasses of brandy held up before their red uniforms in a half toast. Major Ren finally looked relaxed, the tension eased from the hard planes of his face. He said something to Andre that made the other man laugh—a reaction that seemed to shock the Major. Snoke’s eyes danced between the two men with obvious contempt, probably at the realization that for the time being he had been pushed to the side.

Rey watched the interaction with a feeling of satisfaction. The Major had found someone that could potentially take his side in military matters and all it had taken was a party. She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway, suddenly unwilling to look away from him. He was burning bright with potential; a potential that had been dimmed by the presence of men like Roberts and Peavy and Snoke. If only he could see that for himself.

Major Ren’s gaze flickered above the rim of his glass and hooked on hers. Rey took a deep breath at the feeling of it. The acknowledgement of it. His lips curled into a secretive smile as if only they knew the true purpose of this party—as if they were the only ones who were really there at all. And it was true wasn’t it? All of it a plan created between the two of them. 

Suddenly the party didn’t just feel like an illusion, it  _ was _ an illusion. And that was freeing. 

Rey returned his smile and looked down at the swirling pattern on her hem with a blush, the power of their connection overwhelming her. But when she looked back up, she found that the Major wasn’t the only one seeing her. Snoke was too.

His cold, crystal eyes studied her, realization beginning to creep across his face. Rey quickly broke eye contact and allowed herself to blend into the swirl of people around her. The party was an illusion, now she just had to continue to maintain it and not let it shatter around her.

  
  


**Kylo**

 

He couldn’t stop staring at her. In the beginning it had been to distract himself from the stress of the party and the amount of people surrounding him. He had felt suffocated with all the eyes looking at him, judging him. And when Snoke had arrived it had only gotten worse.

Snoke was not in the best of moods, Kylo had felt it the moment he had walked into Raddus House. There had been an air of impatience and irritation around him. It was enough to set Kylo on edge, especially since his main guests had yet to arrive. 

She helped, at first, when she was by the entryway, greeting guests with a polite smile. It was enough for him to periodically see her and be reminded of her faith in him.But now it was different. 

Now she was leaning against the doorway to the dining room, eyes bright and a rosy blush brushed across her cheeks and her nose. Rey's presence no longer calmed him. In fact, it did the complete opposite. It reminded him of how she looked in his room: her hair tumbling across her shoulders, her eyes tracing over his body in a way that made his blood boil, and her breath hitching almost silently as the water ran down his hair and onto his skin. He couldn't look away.

Kylo wanted to paint her. He wanted to remember her like this forever. And he wanted to touch her. No. Not just that. He wanted to cross the room and press her against the wall and untie her hair and thread his fingers through—

"Ren?" Andre pulled him from his reverie.

"Yes?" Kylo dragged his attention away to find Andre staring at him with a smug look.

"Are you quite all right? You seem distracted."

"No. I'm fine." Kylo dared one more glance to the doorway but found that Rey was gone—faded away into the heaving waves of skirts and fans and coats. "Completely fine."

“She’s a beautiful woman,” Andre remarked, taking a sip of brandy. Major quickly looked at Snoke but he seemed distracted by something Peavy was saying. 

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Come now, man. I have eyes. Surprised eyes, but eyes nonetheless.” The man shook his head with a laugh. “I thought you a celibate.”

“What?” Kylo looked at him shocked. “Why would you think that?”

“When we met last, you refused to go into the brothel with me. I’ve never known a man to reject such an opportunity.”

“I’m not a celibate.”  He took a long draught of his brandy. “I have simply found such interactions meaningless. My cravings are not just of flesh.” 

“But for a servant?”

Kylo felt the hairs on his skin rise and his teeth clenched together to hold back the sudden spike in his temper. “What do you mean by that?”

Andre saw the shift with wide and innocent eyes. He raised his hands, his brandy swirling around his glass. “I meant no offense. I’m merely surprised.” Andre tilted his head. “Your reaction tells me that this is more than a master taking advantage of his servant.”

“Taking advantage,” Kylo sputtered. “I would never. I’ve not touched her in such a way.”

“You are a better man than most,” Andre said, looking down at his boots with a nod. “It shows how much you care. Does she reciprocate?” 

“I think she does, but she seems resistant to it.” Kylo thought about her silent rejection of him two weeks ago and then of tonight—of their interaction in his room. Where he had once been shy, her reaction to him had now made him confident. “She is scared. I think.”

“In her position it is understandable,” Andre nodded. “I wish you both luck.”

“And what do you need luck with, Kylo?”

Both men looked up to find Snoke watching them with interest. Kylo took a deep breath. It wasn’t that he had intentionally decided to hide his growing feelings for Rey from him but that was the outcome anyways. He had a notion that Snoke would be disapproving. And he didn't think he could handle that from someone he saw as a father.

“Luck with someone listening to me about the Southern Campaign,” Kylo said, a sudden surge of courage pulsing through his veins. “It seems no-one wants to head my logic.”

“Not this again,” Peavy muttered, drowning himself in his alcohol.

“And you know I’ve listened, Kylo, and thoroughly disagreed with you. Now it's time for you to listen to me and move on,” Snoke replied, his gaze resting on his glass dismissively.

“What is your opinion on the Southern Campaign?” Andre asked, interest rising in his voice. “I’ve heard very little oppose it. On paper it is the right move for us to make at the moment. We are losing our footing here in the North and now the French are involved.”

Kylo turned his attention towards Andre, trying to shake off Snoke’s disapproval. If only Snoke knew that all he wanted was to show he had grown into a man with his own mind. That was what he had wanted for Kylo . . . wasn’t it? 

“It has the appearance of expediency to push for more support of the people in the South, but I believe it will drive us towards failure. From my intel, the southern colonists are becoming more and more disillusioned by our part in this war. I think our focus should be to the North.” 

“Good lord.” Peavy rubbed at his brow. Kylo ignored him.

Andre considered his words for a time before replying. “I agree with you.”

All the men fell silent, including Kylo. Peavy and Snoke’s eyes locked onto Andre with a mix of annoyance and surprise. 

“You agree?” When Kylo had written John Andre, he had told Rey that Andre might agree with him, but a part of him had been loathe to fully believe it. No-one had so far.

Andre nodded. “Quite. I’ve been to the South. The colonists there are restless and severely divided. Communities are fighting each other instead of our own soldiers. The more pressure we put on them the more divided they become and I fear most will fall to the rebel’s side rather than ours. It will leave us open to future vulnerabilities.”  

"Exactly." Kylo couldn't contain his excitement. "That's exactly what I proposed to Lee but he disregarded it and my intel."

“Lee knows when an opinion is a misguided one,” Snoke said, staring at Kylo. “And when it is unasked for. I taught you not to question the authority and decisions of those above you, Kylo. But you continued on anyways as foolishly and recklessly as the boy I met so many years ago. It is no wonder Lee dismissed you.”

Kylo stiffened. If Snoke’s aim was to humiliate him before Andre, he was succeeding. Tension clouded the space between the four men, but Snoke seemed unaffected, his gaze on those around him with a small smile of amusement. 

Andre was the first to break the silence. “That may be, General, but I think there is validity to what Ren says as well.” The younger man turned to look at Kylo. “Sometimes it takes more than one voice to be heard. If you ever decide to pay Lee a visit again, I will go with you and provide my own observations.”

Kylo felt taken aback. It was not the response he had expected and for that he was grateful. “Thank you.”

Andre nodded with a smile. “Of course.” 

Kylo couldn’t help but return the smile with a toast towards Andre, the brandy tasting much sweeter now.

That is until he turned his attention at Snoke and found his expression cold. In his eyes, Kylo saw discontent and something that almost looked like jealousy. He felt his brows furrow in confusion, but before he could contempt it further, Snoke's features cleared, leaving not a trace of emotion behind. Kylo looked down at his newly polished boots with a slight shake of his head.

"Major," a voice whispered at his side. He turned to find Finn beside him.

"Yes, Finn?"

"Farnsworth has arrived, Sir."

Kylo felt some semblance of relief at the news. "He came in through the back?"

Finn nodded. "Yes. No-one saw him arrive and he has everything set up in the study when you’re ready."

"Perfect. Thank you." Everything was going to plan . . . if only his final piece would arrive, then he could show Snoke how much he had truly accomplished.

Finn nodded to him and left the dining room. Kylo was shifting his attention back to Andre when a flash of a green uniform passed him out of the corner of his eye. He did a double take. A Queen’s Ranger? Kylo didn’t remember inviting anyone from that regiment.

"Ah, Captain, you made it," Snoke said, reaching for a new glass of brandy from the dining table behind him and handing it to the newcomer standing before him. 

"I wouldn't have missed it."

Kylo froze. He knew that voice. That horrible, self important voice. The man turned to face him and Andre, a satisfied smirk residing on his face. 

"I dearly wanted to see Major Ren again," Simcoe said, taking a long sip of his brandy, his eyes set on Kylo with unrepentant mirth. 

Rage unfurled within Kylo, a bright fire flashing behind his eyes. Everything in him called for him to yank Simcoe up by his green uniform, drag him from the house and beat him until the uniform turned as red as his own. 

The only thing that distracted him from the sudden onslaught of anger was the equally powerful pull of fear. 

Rey. 

Had Simcoe been near her? Had he touched her? Had he hurt her?

Kylo spun around and looked out the dining room, scanning the crowd of people but he couldn't find her. His grip on his glass tightened until he thought it would shatter into pieces.

"Are you quite all right, Major Ren?" Simcoe’s pompous voice was like a taunt. 

Kylo turned to find all the men staring at him curiously. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in an attempt to regain control. When he opened them again, he zeroed in on Simcoe.

"You were not invited. Why are you here?"

Simcoe opened his mouth to respond but was cut off.

“I invited him,” Snoke said, setting down his glass, the thud of it loud in Kylo’s ears.

There was a beat of silence.

“I don’t understand,” Kylo said, slowly, trying to piece together this uncomfortable situation—one that was now setting even Andre on edge if his tense posture was anything to go by. 

“Simcoe has done well taking the Queen’s Rangers from a mediocre regiment to a superb one. One that isn’t afraid to get their hands dirty. And in only a few months at that.” Snoke crossed his arms across his chest, the scars of his face twisting as he smiled at Simcoe. “I met him a month ago and became quite taken. Especially when I heard that he had caught a spy here in York. One that my young prodigy missed.”

Kylo blinked. 

His rage began seeping out under the shaky walls he had built within himself.

“You are mistaken,” Kylo said, his voice dipping low, his emotion beginning to tip over the edge. He could feel his body begin to shake under the restraint of holding himself back from grabbing Simcoe. “I had been tracking that spy. He was going to lead me to a possible network here in York. But that man—” He jabbed his finger in the direction of the smug arse. “Ruined everything. He hanged him before I could gather more intel and—”

“Ren.” His name was said so quietly he almost missed it. He felt a hand on his shoulder. Kylo looked over into the calm eyes of John Andre. “I think you need some fresh air.”

 The words came from a place of kindness. Deep down, Kylo knew that. But in the moment, the dismissal stung. He glanced back at Simcoe standing beside Snoke as if they were old friends . . . it was a spot that Kylo was supposed to be in. It was a spot he had fought to be in.

Letting out a shaky breath, Kylo turned sharply away from the group and weaved his way through the party goers, their eyes following him—waiting for another show. He wouldn’t give them one. Rey had been right. It was all a game. One of emotion and control. And he was failing miserably.

_ Rey. _

As he moved through the crowd, he began to search for her. He needed her now more than ever: her faith and her calm and her warmth. He needed it all if he was going to survive this party. No. If he was going to survive himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Until . . . a couple days! :D
> 
>  
> 
> [InfiniteBlackRose’s Tumblr](https://infinitelyblackrose.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> [A Spy’s Game Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5CynEFYJALjYPTcRBYPrKK)


	28. . . . To the End of a Moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for how late this is except that I rewrote the ending because I'm a crazy perfectionist....  
> I hope it paid off! I'm really excited to share this chapter with you guys.
> 
> Also! Please check out this gorgeous edit by @lilyevansreyjakuu on Tumblr: [A Spy's Game Edit and Gift](https://infinitelyblackrose.tumblr.com/post/186177666993/a-gift-for-infinitelyblackrose-based-on-a)  
> Thank you so much for all the work you put into this gift!

**Rey**

 

As time passed, Rey found a rhythm in the movements around her and blended into the ever changing groups of people as they moved from room to room. It was easy to overhear conversations when no-one really noticed you and when the alcohol was growing thicker in men’s stomachs. She picked up tidbits about future troop movements and complaints about numbers in certain regiments. It was all good info for Poe to know, but none of it was as good as catching a turncoat.

With each turn of the rooms, Rey would check back at the front doors to see if any new guests had arrived and Abigail would simply shake her head. She was beginning to feel panic. What if all of this was for naught? What if the turncoat never came? It was a dreadful thought that sent her in search of distraction. 

Rey paused in the parlor doorway, finally giving into her curiosity and taking in the twirl of the dancers. It was as she worried. Looking out across the couples dancing around each other, their carefree smiles glowing brighter than the candlelight, made her think of that possibility with the Major. Rey wondered what it would be like to dance with him—to be given the excuse to touch him openly and to be so close to him that with each swirl the perfume of their clothes would tangle together. What if they were just two people meeting at a party? What if everything became much simpler than it could ever be?

Rey closed her eyes. It was a fantasy, that for a moment, she wished to simply imagine.

“I didn’t expect to find you here.”

Rey opened her eyes to find Major Ren standing beside her. It was as if she had conjured him from her very thoughts. His gaze followed one of couples across the dance floor. “Major.”

He looked down at her then and she knew something was wrong. Rey shifted closer to him, her fingers brushing against his arm. “What has happened?”

“Simcoe is here.” 

Rey dropped her hand. “What?” She shifted through the reasons why he would be at the party but found none. “Why?”

A low, angry laugh escaped the Major. “Snoke invited him here. It seems Simcoe has ingratiated himself with him.”

“Snoke.” Venom seeped into her voice. In only two meetings with him, Rey hated him as much as Simcoe. If Major Ren noticed her tone he didn’t comment on it. 

“Rey.” The Major turned to face her as she pushed aside her surprise at the use of her name. “With Simcoe here I would understand if you retired to your room. In fact, I think it would be best.” 

"No." Her answer was without hesitation.

"No?" Major Ren's eyebrows lowered.

Rey shook her head. "No. I will not cower before Simcoe or anyone else. Not in our home."

Major Ren's lips twitched and some of the tension eased from his shoulders. "Our home?"

Rey paused. It was true, wasn’t it? This had become their home—a place that was a haven of sorts from the world beyond for both Rey and the Major. 

She nodded. “Yes. Our home. Just because we invited the world in doesn't mean we should bow to it completely. Especially not to men like Simcoe.”

Major Ren took in her words, his eyes never leaving hers. After a moment, he looked back to the dancers with a deep, relieved sigh. “I made the right choice coming to find you.” 

Rey returned her gaze to the dancers as well and for a time they stood next to each other, enjoying the companionship for what it was. She bit her lip to hide her smile. Maybe there was already simplicity in their relationship. She had just overlooked it.

“What were you thinking about when I found you?” Kylo asked, breaking their silence. “Were you thinking about dancing with me?” His tone was teasing as if he was searching for something to continue to ground him, but Rey couldn’t find it in herself to tease back.

“I was,” she answered, looking up at him. Rey watched shock waver across his face before something else took root—something warm and solid. 

“Rey I—”

A light, feminine cough interrupted them. Rey immediately stepped away from the Major, her side pressed against the doorway as Madam Walsh and Mary moved in front of him.

“Major Ren,” Madam Walsh greeted, dropping into a deep curtsey along with her daughter.

“Madam Walsh.” Major Ren bowed his head. “I was happy to see you accepted my invitation. I’m sorry your husband could not attend.” 

“Yes. I was too. This rebellion has made his trade so difficult,” Madam Walsh lamented. “But I am happy to say I brought my daughters. I wanted to introduce you, in fact, to my youngest: Mary.” 

Mary moved forward with a demure smile and slightly clumsy curtsey, her blonde locks almost gold in the candlelight of the parlor. “It is an honor to meet you, Sir.”

“And I you, Miss Mary.” Major Ren gave a slight bow, but Rey could hear beneath all the pleasantries that there was an irritated prickle in his voice. It seemed neither of them had wanted to be interrupted. 

“This is such a lovely party,” Mary gushed, her fan fluttered against her bodice. “And the dancing looks like such fun. Do you dance, Major?” 

Rey held her breath at Mary’s insinuated request, waiting for the Major’s answer. 

Major Ren gave an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid that I am quite averse to it. Though it seems many other men enjoy it well enough.” The rejection was clear enough to send Madam Walsh into a twitching fit, her hawk nose wrinkled in frustration. Mary’s fan stopped it's fluttering. Rey had to press her fingers to her lips to hide her relieved smile.

“Oh.” Mary let out a small, awkward laugh, her eyes darting frantically to her mother.

“Major Ren is averse to all forms of fun,” Andre said, moving to stand on the other side of Major Ren with a quick wink. “Take no offense, Miss, his life in the army has stripped him of any sense of propriety.”

“And it hasn’t taken yours?” Major Ren asked. 

“No. It most certainly has, but my charm more than makes up for the lack of it.” Andre smiled at the Walshes before looking back to Major Ren. “Now, I beg your pardon, but I must steal you away from these enchanting ladies. I believe an apology is due to you, Sir.”

“Ah.” Major Ren’s forced pleasantness slipped a little. “I don’t believe you do, but I will receive it anyways.” He turned back to Madam Walsh and Mary. “Excuse me, ladies.” He gave a bow and started to move away then seemed to change his mind at the last second. With a startling quickness, he leaned towards Rey, his lips mere inches from her ear. 

“Meet me in the sitting room once the last guest has left,” he whispered before turning on his heel and following Andre down the hall and into the gathered crowds. Rey let out a shuddered breath and glanced at the women who were now staring at her. Madam Walsh was flushed in anger. 

“It seems that we are in need of more brandy,” Rey said, attempting to cover for such odd behavior. “Is there anything that either of you require?” 

Madam Walsh grimaced and shoved past her, Mary following behind with an embarrassed look. Rey watched them leave with a sigh. They suspected nothing but the Major’s apparent rudeness and for that she was grateful. 

She started to move away from the parlor, ready to shake off the awkwardness of the moment, when the feeling of being stared at drew her to a stop. She looked up to find Snoke watching her from down the hall, his lanky body leaning against one of the small tables as if this was his house. When her eyes met his, he looked away, laughing at something Peavy said to him. But Rey felt as if those cold eyes were still upon her even as she moved down the hall and disappeared into the throng of people. 

 

********

 

The ticking of the grandfather clock in the main hallway was following her everywhere she went. From the sitting room to the dining room to the parlor and back, the ticking grew louder and louder and louder—warning her that time was running out. Her moment with the Major had not been a long enough distraction from the growing anxiety of her situation. 

Rey wove through people until she made it back to the main doors where Rose had taken Abigail’s place. Rose shook her head.

“A few soldiers came in but no one else,” she said with a shrug. “I’m sorry, Miss Niima.”

“There is nothing to be sorry for,” Rey said. “I knew there was a chance this plan would fail, but I hoped my chances of it going right were higher.” 

“There is still time,” Rose said with a hopeful smile.

“Yes. Time.” Rey nodded. “I’ll take another turn around the rooms. Make sure nothing else is needed.” Rey had turned away when she heard the whoosh of the door opening and felt the draft of the cold winter wind tangle around her skirts. She froze, her back to the doors.  

“Welcome, Sir,” Rose said. “Can I take your coat?”

“No. That won’t be necessary. I won't be staying long.”

Rey stiffened, the hairs on her arms raising at that voice. It was a voice that she had only heard once, but it was enough to remember. Slowly, she moved just beyond the stairs and into the shadows of the banisters. With a held breath, she turned to look at who had just joined the party.

The man took off his tricorn hat to reveal a shock of red hair and a bored face, the lines of exhaustion driven deep around his eyes and mouth. Rey shrunk deeper into the shadows, shock pulsing through her. Traitor, spy, turncoat: Major Armitage Hux of the Continental Army. And one of the few men she had met outside of their ring of intelligence. 

It had been an accident. Rey had been forbidden from interacting with anyone in camp outside of Leia and Poe and was only given names, titles and descriptions of the officers staying just out of sight from her. And Poe had quite the list of complaints for this officer in particular. But when she was first training, she had walked into the woods for some air the same time Hux had. 

The moment had been brief: a simple nod and a hello as they passed one another. He must have thought her a camp follower. And maybe, even now, he wouldn’t remember her. But Rey couldn’t risk it. Not when she remembered him and not when she now had the knowledge of who was betraying the whole of the Contintental Army. 

Rey backed away from the stairs, watching as Major Ren crossed from the sitting room to greet Hux, relief evident in the wide smile and the sag of his shoulders. His saving grace had arrived. Finally. 

One step. Two steps back. And then Rey spun around and ran straight into someone.

“My apologies, I didn’t—”

“Ah. Miss Niima. Just the woman I wanted to speak with.”

Rey tensed and moved a step back from Snoke. Keeping her head bowed, she curtseyed. “General. What can I do for you?”

“Look me in the eye.” It was a cold command and Rey found she had to obey, a shiver going through her at his piercing gaze. “Ah. Much better.” With slow steps, Snoke moved around her, forcing her back against the stairs, his body hiding her from view of Major Ren and the others. The anxious pulse in her ears grew louder.

Rey raised her chin. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Sir?”

“There’s that defiance. You do your best to hide it, but it's always there in your eyes . . . in your voice. I wonder if that’s why he is so drawn to you,” Snoke said, tilting his head. “It’s a shame, really, for him to like such a lowly creature.”

Rey clenched her jaw, trying her best to bite her tongue. Snoke was the last man there that she wanted to anger. The General raised his brows at her obvious reaction, the power in his hands. She straightened. “Again, is there anything I can do for you?” 

Snoke leaned down until his eyes were level with hers. “What is your aim, Miss Niima?”

“My aim, Sir?”

He smiled then, revealing yellow and crooked teeth. “Don’t play coy with me. What sweet nothings are you whispering in his ear? This party was not his idea, it was yours. Why?”

“As I said before, I thought it a good diversion for the Major and the men he—”

His hand lashed out and caught her jaw in his bony fingers, squeezing tight. Rey’s eyes widened in shock, the pain a dull echo in comparison to the sudden anger in the General’s eyes. Rey frantically looked out from the corner of her eye but Major Ren was gone and Rose had her back turned. Looking in the other direction, she saw a couple of men openly staring before politely averting their eyes. No-one would help her. Not when she was just a servant and the man holding her was a General. The thought nearly paralyzed her. 

“I don’t like liars, Miss Niima,” Snoke said, his voice eerily calm. “I saw you speaking to Kylo alone. I suggest you start telling me the truth.”

“Let go of me.” Rey glared at him, pulling all the resolve she could muster into her expression. If no-one would help her, she had to help herself. Snoke and Rey stared each other down, both refusing to give in. His grip on her tightened to an almost unbearable degree but she didn’t let the pain show on her face. She couldn’t give him what he wanted.

 Snoke grimaced in annoyance at her lack of response and released her jaw. Rey had to fight the impulse to reach up and cradle her face. 

“Did you put it in his mind to invite Andre?” Snoke demanded, stepping closer to her.

“Andre?” Rey stared at him in shock.

"What other manipulations are you using? Hmm? Your body?" He cocked his head, an unhinged look beginning to creep into his eyes. 

Rey fisted her hands. "How dare you—"

"Whatever you're doing, know this: you cannot turn him against me. I, and I alone, know what is best for Kylo. Not you. Not Andre. Me." He spat the last word, his breath leaking across Rey's face in putrid waves as he leaned ever closer. 

"You're mad." The words came out in whispered anger and they only seemed to amuse him. This was the man Kylo looked up to? It only made Rey more furious to think about. "Kylo is the only one who knows that."

"I'm the one that saved him from his family. I'm the one who saved him from his insipid sentimentality. I created him. Shaped him. And I'll continue to do so. He'll remember that soon enough and return to where he belongs."

"By crushing his spirit and leaving him a shell of a man? You are perverse." Rey drew back from him in disgust. 

"He doesn't belong here, playing the master of spies while sharing the bed of some servant. He knows deep down that he should be on the battlefield. With me. Whatever fantasies you are feeding him are lies and when he discovers that he'll cast you aside without a second thought."

"Or he'll cast you aside," Rey snapped. "It's only a matter of time before he refuses to be controlled by you."

"Kylo is nothing without me." Snoke's smile widened, his scars twisting and curling garishly across his face. "And he knows it."

Something inside Rey snapped. All her well contained emotions came crashing down around her, the walls fractured beyond repair. She moved up to Snoke, her face inches from his. "You basta—"

"General," a voice interrupted, drawing Rey and Snoke's attention away from each other. Finn stood beside them looking frantic and worried. "Major Ren requested I show you to the study. He wishes to speak with you."

"Wonderful." Snoke turned his back to Rey and walked away as if the exchange between them had never occurred. Finn gave her one last look before racing after him.

Falling back against the banisters, Rey took a heaving breath. What had just happened? It felt like some sort of nightmare, but no matter how many times she blinked the moment remained vividly real. Lord. She had nearly called a General of the British Army a bastard. And he had laid hands on her. She reached up and traced the edge of her tender jaw.

“Miss Niima, I’m sorry, I saw too late,” Rose said, coming to stand beside her. Rey shook her head, her hair catching on the wood behind her. 

“There is nothing you could have done,” Rey said. She pulled away from the stairs and faced Rose. “But there’s something you can do now. I can’t be seen by the man that just arrived.”

“The redhead?” 

“Yes. Him.” Rey tucked some of her loosened hair behind her ear. “I’m going to my room, but when he leaves I need you to come get me. I won’t leave you and Abigail alone with the General.”

“I can do that.” Rose nodded with a tight smile. “But are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem—”

“Rose.” Rey interrupted, taking a deep breath. “I’m fine. Or at least I will be but I need time to compose myself.” She rested her hand on the shorter woman’s shoulder. “Thank you.” 

Rey moved past her, through the guests and into her room. She shut the door gently behind her and sat on her bed, the frame creaking below her. She grimaced as she thought back on the vow to Kylo that she would not hide away in her room. Now look at her.

Looking up into her mirror, Rey tipped her head to take stock of her face. No bruising, though it ached like there should be.

She reached her fingertips to her jaw, her hands beginning to shake uncontrollably as the fear that she had suppressed finally bubbled to the surface. Dropping her hands to her lap, she focused on the rhythm of their shaking and tried to pull herself back together. A breath in. A breath out. A breath in. A breath out. A breath i—

Rey looked back into the mirror and stared at herself—her eyes almost feverish as she smiled. She might have been afraid, but now she knew that Snoke was too. He wouldn’t have confronted her otherwise. He knew, just as Rey did, that Kylo was changing and there was no stopping it now. 

 

**Kylo**

  
  


Hearing the door open, Kylo looked up in anticipation. Snoke walked into the study, taking stock of the men surrounding the table before coming to stand across from Kylo, his eyebrows raised at the new faces before him.

“What’s all this about, Ren?” Andre asked beside him, nodding towards Farnsworth and Armitage Hux, the later of which looked almost emotionless in the face of the British Officers around him. Snoke crossed his arms across his chest. Kylo felt a spike of excitement course through him. Finally, he would be able to show them what he had achieved.

“First, I want to introduce you all to Farnsworth,” Kylo said, motioning towards the lanky youth. Farnsworth bowed, an awed look in his eyes as he took in General Snoke and Major Andre. 

“It is an honor to be in your presence, Sir,” he said, smiling widely at Snoke. The General didn’t reply. 

“Show them what you’ve brought with you,” Kylo said. Farnsworth gave a quick nod and placed his satchel on the table, yanking it open. Reaching in he drew out a small stack of Continental Currency and set it before Andre and Snoke. Andre leaned down to get a better look with a confused expression.

“Rebel money?” he asked.

“Counterfeit rebel money,” Kylo said. Snoke’s eyes darted over to him and Hux’s once emotionless face transformed in shock. Kylo had to fight back a smile.

“Counterfeit?” Andre reached over and plucked up one of the bills, studying it closely. “Damn good counterfeits.” 

“Thank you, Sir,” Farnsworth said, straightening.

“Farnsworth here is my printer,” Kylo said. “These are his trial runs.”

“You plan to make more?” Andre asked, turning his attention to the young man.

“Yes. These are just the beginning. I’ve just recently finished setting up several printing presses and am working on recruiting more men. That has been the tricky part.” Farnsworth glanced at Kylo. “It is our goal to make hundreds more.”

“Hundreds?” Andre’s eyes widened.

Kylo nodded. “Hundreds. After that we will flood the rebel strongholds with their own money and collapse them from within. They will be financially ruined.”

Andre let out a sharp crack of a laugh. He slapped Kylo on the back. “Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant!” 

No longer able to hold back his smile, Kylo beamed at Andre. “Thank you.”  He looked out of the corner of his eye to find Snoke nodding to himself. The warmth of acknowledgment curled around him.

“More than brilliant. It’s pure genius,” Hux said, breaking his silence. He grabbed one of the bills and rubbed at the printing. “Washington is already struggling to pay his men. Bury him in fakes and his army will melt away beneath him.” A vengeful smirk appeared on his lips. 

“And who are you?” Snoke asked, quietly. The question silenced everyone, their attention turning to Hux. 

“I’m the one that can tell you what cities and what strongholds to flood the counterfeits with.” Hux tilted his head, his red hair bright against the dark woods of the study. “Where Washington will feel it the most.”

“Yes. But who are you?” Andre asked, reiterating Snoke’s question. Hux looked to Kylo then back to Snoke and Andre.

“I’m Major Armitage Hux of the Continental Army.”

A tense silence bloomed among the men. Kylo saw Andre stiffen, his body ready for a fight. Even Farnsworth reacted by leaning away from the man beside him, his eyes filled with suspicion. Hux's lips curled at the reactions around him.

"I'm also the man who has helped you know when and where to attack these past couple of months." He crossed his arms. "There's no need to thank me, of course."

Snoke stared at Kylo, his look almost approving. "You succeeded in creating a turncoat." 

"I did. And it has paved the way for victories we potentially wouldn't have had otherwise." Kylo raised his chin in satisfaction. He knew, without a doubt, that he had shown all the men there what he was truly capable of. Snoke blinked and Andre let out a low whistle, eyebrows raised.

“You’ve been busy,” he said. “When I came here tonight I did not expect to see a counterfeiter, a rebel turncoat, and a British General all in one room. You’ve impressed me Ren.” 

“Yes. Yes. Impressive. Now that the compliments are out of the way, why don’t we start picking what cities to target,” Hux said, setting down the counterfeits and eyeing all the men. “We need to hit them as fast as possible before they can gain any more ground against you lot. My warnings about our movements can only help for so long.”

Andre rubbed his hands together excitedly. “I’m more than ready for that.”

“We also need a timeline and a recruitment plan,” Farnsworth said. “I still don’t have the manpower to create this many counterfeits.”

Kylo remained silent, his gaze on Snoke. Waiting. The General’s gaze darted between all the men before settling on Kylo. With slow, precise movements, Snoke reached for a chair behind him, dragged it to the table, and sat down.

Snoke waved his hand before him. “Let’s begin.”

The acceptance of the gesture was enough to forget all that Snoke had said earlier in the evening. It was enough. It had to be. 

Kylo drew up his own chair and sat down.

 

********

 

“You know how to put on a show,” Hux said as Andre and Farnsworth left the study and party behind. 

“Thank you.” Kylo returned his attention to the redhead.

“It wasn’t a compliment,” Hux said, his face falling back into boredom. “You’re just a means to an end. Just as I am for you.” He nodded towards Snoke, who was still writing down notes on all the information Hux had provided him. “Did you gain what you wanted.”

“I did.”

“Good. Now it’s time for what I want.”

Kylo let out a dry laugh. “You know as well as I that I can’t give you a commission. You are too valuable to me in the rebel camp.”

“And you told me we could negotiate,” Hux said in irritation. 

“That we can.” Kylo leaned against one of the bookshelves. “I can offer you a salary.”

“A salary as a spy.” Hux shook his head. “How ridiculous.”

Kylo reached into his coat and pulled out a small satchel. He handed it to Hux. “Is it?”

With a quizzical look, Hux took it from him and looked inside. His eyes widened. “Ah. I see. But the question is can you offer me more?”

Kylo reached into his coat once more and pulled out a second satchel. He tossed it to Hux.

“You are terrible negotiator.” Hux shoved both into his wool coat.

“No. I just need what I want without trouble,” Kylo said.

“Or you are desperate.” Hux put his hat on, his bored look completely gone now. “Either one works for me. As long as there will be more to come.”

“As long as you are useful to me, there will be.” Kylo tilted his head. “I will be expecting a letter in a weeks time.” Hux nodded with a sly smile and left the study. 

Without looking up from his notes, Snoke said, "If you feed him too much he will become fat and useless."

"Then I'll slowly starve him until he remembers what it’s like to feel hunger," Kylo said, pulling away from the bookshelf to sit across from Snoke.

"Hmm." Snoke nodded finally looking up. "You've done well."

Kylo shifted in his chair, straightening. "Thank you, Sir."

"You've proven your capabilities. That is undeniable. But you still have much to learn."

The sudden switch in sentiment jarred Kylo. "Sir?" 

"You have made errors. Ones that cannot be overlooked."

Kylo fingers dug into the lip of the table. "I don't know what you are referring to."

"Your trust in John Andre for one." Snoke folded his notes and tucked them away in his uniform. "You are letting him manipulate you. And now he knows your plans. What's to stop him from taking credit for all you've done?"

"Andre wouldn't do that." Kylo shook his head, taken aback by Snoke's assessment. "He has been nothing but encouraging since I first showed interest in intelligence."

"And what have I told you about those who whisper honey in your ears?" Snoke asked, leaning back in his chair. "They are the ones that tell you the most lies, Kylo. They manipulate and twist you into complacency."

"But Andre—”

“Andre is someone who loves being the center of attention. Don’t delude yourself into thinking he would willingly step back into your shadow.”

“I . . .” Kylo trailed off. There was some truth in the statement. He couldn’t deny it. And that hurt, because what if everything tonight had been false?

“And then there is that servant of yours.” 

Kylo looked up sharply. “Miss Niima? What about her?”

Snoke tilted his head, taking in Kylo’s reaction. “You’ve let her in.”

Kylo sucked in a breath. Snoke knew. “And if I have?”

“Oh, Kylo. How willfully ignorant you are. Who's to say this Miss Niima isn’t just like Andre. . . Or worse?”

“You’re wrong,” Kylo said, jaw clenching. “Miss Niima has been nothing but kind and caring.”

Snoke waved away the objection. “Kindness is a facade.” 

“Even so . . . what does she have to do with my mission here?”

“You’ve weakened yourself by surrounding yourself with so many people who could use you. It would be better if you returned to your original post. You don’t belong here.” Snoke stood from his chair and circled the table to stand beside him. “I’m only telling you the truth as I see it, as I’ve always done.”

“Of course.” Kylo kept his gaze on the wood of the table, the high of Snoke’s acceptance fading away. “As always.”

“Everything I do is to help you.” Snoke placed his hand on Kylo’s shoulder. “You are like my son, Kylo. And at the end of this phase of yours, I will be here, waiting for you.” He squeezed his shoulder. “Remember that.”

And then Snoke was gone—the study door left open. Kylo remained at the table, listening to the hearty goodbyes and the laughter of intoxicated party guests, realizing that, in the end, his accomplishments still were not good enough.

 

**Rey**

 

Rey took a deep breath when she stepped out of her room, relieved at the emptiness around her. Only a few people lingered at the front doors with shawls and coats in hand. 

“The redhead left a little while ago along with Andre and the General,” Rose said. “Everything has been quiet since.”

“Thank you, Rose.”

“Are you feeling better?”

“Much,” Rey said. And she truly meant it. The time alone had given her the opportunity to really think about what had happened with Snoke and shelve it away in her mind. But that alone hadn't been enough to alleviate the fear. 

She had preoccupied herself with thoughts of someone else. Her eyes flickered to the loitering guests in hopes they would quicken their exit.

“Good. I will get Abigail then. We’ll need to start the clean up,” Rose sighed, her look one of exasperation and good humor, before going off in search of the other woman. Rey let herself smile a little. Rose was always a constant—even now in the leftover chaos of the night. 

A sudden rush of cold made her turn to look at the doors once more to find the last guests ducking out into the winter night. The doors thudded loudly behind them leaving Rey alone in the hall. 

Finally.

Rey felt a sudden thrill course through her.

Moving down the hall and towards the front of the house, Rey drew closer to the sitting room.  _ Meet me in the sitting room once the last guest has left.  _ She shivered at the remembrance of his voice so close to her ear. Wondering why Kylo wanted to meet her had stopped her mind from lingering on what had happened with Snoke. It had become like a puzzle to her, trying to understand what he could possibly be planning. And now she would have her answers.

With bated breath, Rey paused in the doorway. 

Her stomach dropped in disappointment. The sitting room was empty—all the chairs and tables had been moved to the side, leaving a wide open space in the center of the room. It was odd, but then again, drunk soldiers did odd things. She fell against the doorway with a sigh. Maybe he had decided not to meet her? And perhaps it was for the best. Rey didn’t feel completely herself and she still hadn’t decided what to tell him about Snoke. If anything at all.

The stairs behind her creaked loudly, the noise spinning her around in anticipation, ruining any of the convincing she was attempting on herself.

“Maj—” Rey stopped short, taking in a green uniform.

Simcoe stumbled down the last stair his eyes alight with something resembling joy.

“Ah, Miss Niima! I had hoped to run into you before I left.” 

Rey moved across the hall towards him, anger beginning to knot in her belly. “What were you doing upstairs? No guest are allowed up there.”

“Are you suspecting me of something?” Simcoe leaned closer to her with a smile, the smell of alcohol perfuming him. Rey wrinkled her nose in disgust. 

“What were you doing upstairs, Simcoe?” Rey demanded, any fear of him gone in the face of exhaustion and what she had already put up with the past evening. “Tell me now.”

“Or what?” Simcoe wobbled on his feet. “You’ll get your precious Major to throw me out? Careful, repeat history too much and you'll become a bore.” He laughed to himself.

“You did that to yourself.”

“No. You and your precious Major did that.” Simcoe tilted his head contemplatively. “You’re a perfect match you know. The bitch and the bastard.”

Rey’s temper flared into a screaming pitch. “Get out of our house. Now.”

“It would be my honor,” Simcoe smiled, teetering to the door and throwing it open, the night swallowing him whole. Rey didn’t know how it didn’t retch him back up. After taking a rattling breath, she slammed the door behind him. 

“I think that’s the most anger I’ve seen out of you.”

Rey looked over her shoulder to find Kylo leaning against the banisters of the stairs. She pulled away from the door, her hand slipping off the cool wood. “Simcoe seems to possess the talent of drawing out latent emotion.”

“What did he do?”

“He was upstairs. He wouldn’t tell me why.”

“What?” Kylo pulled away from the banisters and looked up towards his room. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No. I don’t want to think about it. I don’t have the energy for it tonight. Do you?”

“No. No, I think all my energy was expended slamming that door,” Rey said. Kylo let out a chuckle, his gaze returning to her. 

“Did you wait long for me?”

The question brought Rey back to the moment, the little thrill building back up inside of her. “No.”

“Good.”

A contemplative silence fell between them as they studied each other. Something unsaid spun out between them—something Rey couldn’t put a name to, but it felt eerily similar to anticipation. 

“Major there’s some—”

The sound of violin strings cut her off. Rey glanced past him and down the hall in confusion. Laughter mixed with the music followed by clapping. She glanced back to Kylo.

“I thought the musicians had left.”

“I asked them to stay a little longer,” Kylo replied. “Finn and the others deserve some time to enjoy themselves.”

“That’s kind of you,” Rey said softly. His lips twitched. “What?”

Kylo shook his head and walked into the sitting room. He came to a stop in the center of the bare room and didn’t even seem to notice how the furniture was pushed to the side haphazardly. Rey followed him, her skirts brushing against the floorboards loud enough to almost overwhelm the music floating down the hall.

“It was also selfish of me,” Kylo said, turning to look at her. “As I said before, I want to dance with you. At least once.”

Rey sucked in a breath, cataloging every detail: the moved furniture, the whispered rendezvous, the double checking if she was thinking about dancing with him. “This was your plan all along?”

“From the moment you said we couldn’t dance in public.” He tilted his head. “You never said we couldn’t in private.”

Rey bit her lip, her heart pounding in her ears.

“Have you changed your mind since we last spoke?” Kylo asked.

“I’m not the best dancer,” Rey whispered. He moved closer, eyes warm in the gold light of the candle fire, the red of his regimentals almost burgundy in the shadows cast across them.

“Neither am I.”

“And I’m not Mary Walsh,” Rey teased, trying to find her footing in the sudden unsteadiness of her heartbeat. Kylo shook his head, laughter in his features.

“I’m quite thankful for that, I assure you.”

Rey looked down at her hem, her hands beginning to tremble at her sides. This all seemed like a peculiar dream—one that she would wake from at any moment. And she knew she shouldn’t want this. 

But she did. She wanted to escape from Snoke and Simcoe and the war and the spying. She wanted to break all convention and escape into him for a night. 

Rey nodded.

“Is that a yes?” Kylo asked. 

The trembling nervousness fell away at the decision. “I’ve walked away from so many moments and never found out how any of them would’ve ended.” Rey took a step forward and fell into a curtsey as the violin shifted into a new, slower song. “But I want to know how this one ends.” When she straightened, Kylo bowed to her in return, his eyes dark and his gaze intent. 

The violin swelled as they stepped towards each other, hands held together by the curl of the music. Rey drank in the closeness as they danced back and forth, the rustling of their clothes mixing together with the low whispers of breath that escaped them. Kylo freed one of her hands and raised her other up, allowing her space to spin beneath their connected arms. Her skirts flared out beneath her and caught on his boots in ebbing waves.

The sighing of the strings pulled them apart and back together again—over and over until Rey couldn’t remember anything that had happened in the hours leading up to this moment. She took his hand and began spinning again, a hum of contentment escaping her at the feeling of him supporting her.

“You seem a fine dancer to me,” he whispered, drawing her a little closer. 

“As do you,” Rey replied, switching the direction of her spin before moving away and beginning to circle around him, their hands still connected. He watched her go, his eyes following her every move. 

“Don’t be so sure of that,” he murmured, tugging her a little too hard as she came to face him once more. Rey fell into him, her free hand reaching out to his shoulder to steady herself. She lingered there for a moment, her thumb brushing against the fine fabric of his coat, the scent of their clothes twining together. Kylo’s breath caught in her hair as he let out a low laugh.

“That was on purpose,” Rey chastised, stepping back and placing both her hands in his once more.

“Was it?” A mischievousness tugged at his lips and the corners of his eyes. 

“It was.” Rey leaned forward, her nose wrinkling. “And so is this.” She tugged him to the side in an attempt to send them spinning together, but his feet tangled up on him and he nearly fell to the floor. Kylo caught himself last minute, his eyes wide and his grip tightening on her hands as if she were the only thing that could save him. Rey let out a laugh, her head tossed back in mirth at the image of him tumbling so ungracefully.

“What was that?” he grumbled. Rey let go of his hands and waved at him, unable to find the words between her laughs.

“My . . . my apologies! I-I promise, I only meant to make us spin!” She bent at her waist, her corset constricting her laughter almost painfully, but she couldn’t seem to stop. “I thought it unfair that I was the only one getting dizzy.”

“Oh. You wanted us to both spin?” A dangerous look came into his eyes. Rey backed away from him with wide eyes.

“Major—” A flash of red stopped her.

Rey tried to dart away, but he caught her around the waist and dragged her back to him. She was laughing so hard now that there were tears blooming at the corner of her eyes. Klyo’s own laughs spun out around him as he held her. 

“All right, Miss Niima.” He smiled, curling his arm around her waist tight and lifting her up. Rey gasped, grabbing onto his shoulders.

“You wouldn’t.”

"Are you sure?" Kylo raised his eyebrows and began spinning them. The room blurred around her, the candlelight wavering in unending streams. Rey let out a shrill gasp. Her fingers clung into the coarse fabric of his uniform as the world fell away into a mix of brown and gold and light, leaving only the two of them solid and tangible. Rey's laughter returned—the noise hovering around them in shattered snippets. And Kylo was laughing too, his body shaking against hers. 

Rey had never felt so . . . free. It was as if she and the Major were children again and living out the carefree joy they had never truly experienced. She pressed her face into the sleeve of his coat in an attempt to catch her breath and to prove to herself that this was all real: the arms around her, the laughter, and the scent she was breathing in.

“I don’t think this counts as dancing,” she said, her voice muffled against him. Kylo began to slow their spinning until Rey felt her feet brush against the floorboards once more.

“I think we can break the rules a little,” Kylo said, setting her back on the ground. Rey tried to take a step back but ended up swaying. Her vision tumbled around her. Choking out a laugh, she stumbled back into Kylo. He caught her and settled his forehead on her shoulder. “Give me a moment. I can’t seem to get my bearings.” 

“And who’s to blame for that?” Rey teased, leaning her head against his own and closing her eyes at the softness of his hair. The laughter was quiet and breathless now as they came down from the intoxicating high of acting so unreservedly. Kylo tilted his head, his nose brushing against her collarbone. Rey pushed aside the shivers that crept up her spine.

“Thank you,” he whispered, the last of his laughter fading away. “I needed this. More than you realize.”

“I did too.”

“Tonight was horrible, wasn’t it?” 

Rey opened her eyes, her gaze landing on the staircase, just beyond the sitting room doorway, where Snoke had trapped her. She blinked. “Truly awful.”

Kylo let out a sigh. "We weren’t made for social events."

"No, we weren’t," Rey laughed. "I wouldn't recommend it again."

Lifting his head up, Kylo looked at her. "Do you regret it? Recommending it, I mean."

Rey took in his ears poking through his now messy hair and the wide-eyed youthful gaze that she hadn't seen before. She shook her head.

"Why?"

"It led me here. To this moment. I could never regret that," Rey said, the warmth of honesty in her voice. 

Everything after that splintered into beautifully fragmented images: darkened eyes, hands curling at her waist, his hair tickling against her cheek, and his lips brushing against hers. The kiss was as gentle as it was unexpected. His lips were soft against hers, pressing every unsaid moment between them onto her skin. And then he was gone—drawing away from her with a dreamy and panicked expression. Rey felt the loss of the fleeting connection deep within herself.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. Ple—”

Rey reached up and tangled her fingers through his hair, dragging him back to her. Her lips crashed against his clumsily, the softness lost in her desperation. Kylo stiffened in shock beneath her touch and—even with her eyes closed—Rey could see disbelief settling between his brows. She knotted her fingers in his hair and broke away from him with a huff of frustration.

“Don’t leave me alone in this,” Rey murmured, pressing her forehead against his, her eyes remaining closed. “Please. Kylo. I want to.”

A sharp intake of breath and then Kylo circled her waist, pulling her to him. He deepened their kiss with a low moan, his teeth catching her bottom lip. His arms were so tight around her that the boning of her corset dug into her sides, but Rey could barely feel it, the nearness and the taste of him overwhelming all other senses. She gasped as he changed angles, his fingers reaching up to guide her gently. Rey had never kissed anyone until this moment but she felt no anxiety or awkwardness. She fell into this new kind of dance detached of any such worldly worries.

The sounds of their lips meeting echoed around them, Kylo’s fingers moving past her jaw and into the hair at the nape of her neck. “Rey.” Her name was a groan against her lips. Rey tangled her hands in his coat and held tightly to him. “Let it down.”

Rey hummed questionly. Kylo pulled away a little. “Your hair.” His voice was a low growl as his fingers wove into her bun. “I need it unbound.” Rey watched his eyes grow hungry. 

Shakily, she reached up to her hair but it wasn’t fast enough for him. Kylo began pulling the pins from her bun himself. With loud pings, the pins rained down around her feet until she felt the weight of her hair tumble down her back. Kylo let out a sigh of relief and ran his fingers through her hair, twisting and knotting it in patterns of his own making, his nails dragging across her scalp, causing gooseflesh to raise on her arms. 

“Don’t stop,” Rey breathed, the feeling of his touch dizzying.

“I don’t plan to.” Kylo pushed her backwards until she collided with the wall. It left her breathless for more than one reason. His hands remained in her hair while his kiss deepened and darkened. Fingers hooking on his buttons, Rey traced a pattern up his chest—the thrum of his heartbeat steadied her as she lost herself in him, his kisses drifting from her lips, across her jaw and down her neck, the flick of his tongue making her tremble. 

“Kylo,” she sighed, tipping her head back against the wall, her eyelids flickering. He moved up to her ear, his breath heavy. 

“Will you . . . will you call me something else?” For a man who had her held against a wall, he suddenly sounded unsure and hesitant. Rey leaned forward, her nose bumping against his cheek.

“Anything.” 

It was Kylo’s turn to shiver.

“Ben.”

Rey leaned back against the wall, surprise overcoming her. “Ben?”

He nodded, his eyes not quite meeting hers. Shy. Rey’s heart melted at the truth shared with her. She kissed his cheek, hands cradling his face.

“Ben,” she whispered, drawing away to see his reaction. He didn’t wait long enough for her to catch it, his lips and tongue capturing hers until she let out a low whine and a heat she had never felt before began coiling low within her. She bit his lip in a curious frustration. He moaned in return, the sound reverberating between them. Rey smiled against his lips.

“Miss Niima, the mus—” 

A sharp gasp made them both freeze—bodies rigid against each other, the heat doused inside of her as quick as it came.

Rey’s eyes flashed open as Kylo slowly drew away from her. His hair was a tangled mess and his uniform was crumpled from where she had pulled at him. Slowly, she turned to find Abigail in the doorway with wide, horrified eyes. Rey stared back in panic, the realization of what Abigail had witnessed striking her like lightning.

No. Not just Abigail.

Her seeing Rey was just like the Continental Army seeing her. If Abigail decided to report this to Dameron or—Lord forbid—Leia, they would know the truth . . . That she had entangled herself with a British officer. Rey would be taken from her mission or worse: be labeled a traitor. The world came crashing back into Rey, casting out the heat and want and need and the feeling of freedom and replacing it with nausea. Lord. What had she done?

What  _ had _ she done?

“I-I’m . . .” Abigail shook her head in confusion. “My apologies, Major . . . Miss Niima.” She curtseyed and was gone, leaving behind a silence tainted by panting breaths. 

Kylo looked up from his boots to her with a dazed expression. “That was unexpected.” 

Rey couldn’t find it in her to answer, pushing her hair behind her ears and working on straightening her dress. She couldn’t look at Kylo knowing how she had acted and how she felt about it . . . how part of her still wanted more in the face of certain ruin.

“Rey?”

“I think I should retire,” Rey said, quickly, not wanting to address everything she was feeling at the moment. She started towards the hall, her eyes cast downwards. Rey had just made it around Kylo when his arm wrapped around her and pulled her back against his chest. He settled his chin against her shoulder, his nose brushing against her ear. She felt herself soften against him—the fight leaving her too quickly.

“I know that look. And I can’t let you go. I won’t let it end like that.”

“Major.” Rey tried to create distance by addressing him as such but his grip around her only tightened.

“You said you wanted to see how this moment ends. Well, this is how it ends: with me holding you and thinking about how I could hold you all night. With me touching you here . . ." His hands trailed up her waist. "And here." He pressed a light kiss on the skin behind her ear. "And know that it will end with me falling asleep thinking about all the places I want to kiss you in the future. I won’t let you run away anymore, Rey. It’s too late. I know what you want and I want it too.”

“Kylo . . .” Rey stiffened against the knowledge of how reckless she had been and how much his words begged for her to continue to be. Kylo's arms loosened around her and he brushed past, pausing in the doorway to look back at her. And even though his eyes were shadowed in the dim candlelight, she saw how truly happy he was.

“Good night, Rey.” And then he retired to his room, the stairs creaking beneath him. It wasn't until she heard his door close that Rey sunk to the floor. Her skirts fanned out around her in a blue puddle. She ran her fingertips across her lips, still feeling the phantom touch of his kiss.

Rey closed her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Until next time :D
> 
>  
> 
> [InfiniteBlackRose’s Tumblr](https://infinitelyblackrose.tumblr.com/)  
> [A Spy’s Game Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5CynEFYJALjYPTcRBYPrKK)


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